The Seed of the Sea
by zmkuzma
Summary: I grew up under the thumb of the Grand Line for my entire life. Things changed when I met a curious man named Lowwe who was just starting to carve his own legend. He opened my eyes. Who would have guessed that I, Turning Arcshaw, would become a pirate.
1. Arc 1:Start: Life on the Line

There was a time when I thought that the world was a harsh place. I believed that certain things were impossible, and that I was doomed to be wherever fate demanded. But then one day I noticed that those thoughts were crashing down around me as if they were fragile as glass. Beyond them was wide open place where I could choose any direction and grasp any dream. The one responsible for throwing the stone through my prison came out of nowhere...

I was born on the Grand Line--the most terrible and unforgiving sea in the world. I lived on a moderately sized island in a small town. I never knew my parents, but my uncle was always around to teach me and to raise me with as much care as he could manage. He was the owner of a bar that was frequented by various travelers and locals alike. Our home was on the second floor of the building. It was often difficult to sleep because of the loud and obnoxious sounds crashing around from the bar below.

Every so often pirates would visit as they made their way along the trail of the Grand Line. Some were kind, some were brutal, and others didn't know or care about respect--they were the worst. It seemed like any pirate could come in whenever they wanted and do whatever they wanted no matter what they were like. My uncle tried to defend his bar many times, but the pirates would just destroy and harm to their heart's content. He was truly lucky to even be alive. Still, he was pretty tough.

I told myself after witnessing those many attacks that the only way to really succeed in life was through the achievement of power. My uncle would say I was wrong, but he could never argue too well against my beliefs especially after he had just sustained innumerable bruises and wounds from one of those pirates.

I often thought he was just holding on to some false hope. After an attack he wouldn't talk about pirates or anything for days and days. I think it was his way of recovering--of searching for some more of that hope. Uncle wanted to believe the best in people, but he didn't have that much to go on.

He was always a dreamer. He had dreams that he wanted to accomplish during his life, but over time he had put them away onto some shelf in his thoughts. It's hard to imagine how he kept going with so many dreams collecting dust. He had only told me of one dream of his, and I guess he told me because it was the most precious. He said that on the Grand Line there was an island with a an ancient wall hidden deep within the secrets of the land. On that wall there was a grape vine that bore the sweetest and most luscious grapes that the world had ever known. He said that he wanted to use a bundle of those grapes and crush them to make a single bottle of wine. Such a wine was a legendary commodity because was said to grant the bond of eternal love. With that wine, he wanted to go to the grave of his wife and share that bottle with her gravestone. He didn't know if there was an afterlife or not, but he did know that he wanted to be with her again. When he died he dreamed to see her face and to hold her again. If they were connected by the power of the wine, he was sure that his dream would come true.

I didn't know what to think about his dream. It seemed like a simpleminded fairy-tale to me. I just knew that it was important to him. I guess that's all he wanted me to understand.

Being raised on the Grand Line meant I had to learn how to survive faster than children in other parts of the world. Not only did we have to be smart and cunning to make it in the fast and violent world of pirates and bandits and cutthroats alike, we also had to have a certain level of strength and skill. I was never very strong, so I had to find ways to make myself excel in the intelligence and skillfulness departments.

When I turned eleven, I stole a military issue long range rifle and an good deal of ammunition from under the nose of a world government ship crew that had stopped at our island for a short while. The military was useless in my opinion. They served their own goals, and they were never around when people really needed help. I figured that they deserved to have something taken from them every once and a while. Either way, they didn't even notice the loss because there was so much firepower on board.

With that rifle I began practicing my marksmanship. My uncle noticed I had taken up the new hobby only a short while after I had started, and he said that he would buy me ammunition whenever I wanted provided that I made him a single promise. He made me promise that I would never use the rifle to defend or get revenge for anything that happened at bar. I was reluctant to make that kind of a promise, but the ammo had to come from somewhere.

I swear there where a million times when I wanted to run up from the bar to grab my rifle and stick it into the face of some of those pirates. Not all of them deserved it, but the majority did. I never broke that promise, though. In retrospect, my uncle probably saved my life by making me pledge my word like that.

I practiced with that rifle four hours a day for the next six years, and very slowly I saw myself get better and better. In that time, to improve my accuracy and consistency, I taught myself about the principles of physics from various textbooks and science journals. I did my best to learn everything there was to know about wind-resistance, gravity, projectile motion, and curvature of the earth to insure that I would always find my target. In time, I discovered that my skills were exceeding the sighting capabilities of my rifle. I could literally snipe object so far away that I couldn't see them with the rifle's sights.

I didn't settle for that, however. I quickly came up with a great idea that would boost the rifle's effectiveness by three times. I decided that I would invent a scope and calibrate it so that it could be attached to my weapon as a new sight. The only thing I needed to do was consult my physics books again to study the nature of lenses, magnification, and reflection and refraction. Of course, I couldn't make the lenses myself, so I planned to gather a collection of telescopes and remove the lenses I needed from them.

I don't remember exactly how long it took me to design the scope and find all of the right parts, but I know that around my eighteenth birthday I was sitting at the counter of Uncle's bar assembling everything together to make the finished product. A lot of things were going happen that day.

The complete scope was a black wooden tube about a foot long and and an inch in diameter. I was holding it in my hand looking through it around the room like a telescope. It was perfect. Everything had worked out just as planned. I was very proud of my engineering skills. The only thing I still needed to do was construct a device to attach it to my rifle. That was easier said than done. The device would have to enable the scope to be adjusted to minutely different pitch and yaw angles, so I could fire at different trajectories based on wind, distance, and position. It didn't take me long to realize that I was truly only half way done with my project.

My uncle walked up to me and threw down a bounty poster as I was staring through the scope. The bar was empty, so when I saw him pull out a glass and fill it with a tan colored soda, I knew it was for me. He set it down in front of me on top of a small napkin.

"Watch out for that man," he said, "Apparently he is in town for a little while until his log pose gets set."

I picked up the poster and looked at the picture.

"Well, we've seen tougher guys than him. He's only got a 47 million beri bounty on his head," I said taking a sip of my drink.

"Only! You idiot! Do you understand what you're saying?! Sure, it's not the highest bounty we've seen, but that amount is nothing to sneeze at. Besides..."

"Besides what, old man?"

"Well, I've been warned that this guy is pretty bad. Apparently, he's very ruthless and he doesn't take kindly to ANY kind of opposition. I know how you can be, so just shut your mouth if you see him. And one more thing..."

"Yeah," I said looking through the scope again.

"STOP CALLING ME OLD MAN!" He screamed into my scope so his mouth looked twenty times bigger.

Uncle surprised me so much that I nearly dropped the device. Needless to say, I would have been extremely upset if all that hard work crashed to floor so abruptly.

"BE MORE CAREFUL, DAMMIT!!" I yelled back.

"Learn some respect you little punk," he muttered to himself.

I took another sip of my soda, and I suddenly heard the bar door open and close behind me. I didn't turn to see who it was. Sometimes pirates think you're a threat to them if you face them head on like that. So I just sat there with my lips on my glass... waiting.


	2. Arc 1:Part 2: A New Customer

One bar stool away a young guy who didn't look much older than me sat down and rested his left hand on the counter. He wasn't the pirate from the bounty poster like I had thought when I first heard the door open.

"Excuse me sir," he said, "do you serve hot tea?"

"Sure thing, young man," my Uncle responded. "Just give me a moment to heat up some water."

The new customer nodded curtly and rested his elbows on the counter. At first glance, I couldn't place him. He was obviously a traveler, but he didn't look like a bandit or a pirate and he definitely wasn't a marine. He wore an opened black button-down collar shirt with a white t-shirt underneath. His skin color was a tinted tan that had grown darker because of the sun, and his hair looked like short wild black dusty bush. For shoes he had on a pair of ragged moccasins that seemed like they had seen their better days. The strangest thing about his appearance was that he wore a piece of tied white rope around the waist of his worn loose black jean shorts like a belt. Dangling from that rope, on the side of his hip, was fencing foil. I had never seen one before, so it's sparkling silver gleam stuck out like a sore thumb to my eye.

"Hey," he said interrupting my visual appraisal by pointing at my newly constructed scope, "can I see that?"

I eyeballed him carefully for a second when an idea popped into my head. "Sure," I said, "if you let me see that foil."

He suddenly swiveled his body to face me, propping an arm on the counter. He was smiling very slightly. I remember him looking tired but alert at the same time. It was like he exhausted because he chose to be exhausted.

"I don't know..." he said drawing it from the string-belt on his waste, "this is pretty special."

I frowned at him. "And what makes my possessions any less special?"

He laughed and passed me the handle of the foil. "I guess you have a point," he said, "But I warn you not to call this a foil anymore. It gets kind of insulted when you say things like that."

What he said was so strange that I didn't even bother to answer. I barely noticed his words anyway because the weight of the foil caught me off guard. He had held it like it was as light as a feather, but I had to strain to keep aloft.

"Don't let him get on your nerves," my Uncle said as he came back to the counter with a cup and a pot of hot water, "he tends to do that quite a bit."

"I see..." he said turning to my Uncle. He quickly set to work fixing his tea the way he wanted.

"This foil is incredibly heavy--"

Before I could finish, it became so heavy that I had to let it fall out of my hand. The impact it made with the floor of the bar made the counter shake.

He stood up laughing and picked the foil up off of the floor--like it weighed like a feather again--and inserted it back through his rope belt.

"I told you that it feels insulted when you call it a foil," he said matter-of-factly.

"I don't understand," I said.

"It's actually very straightforward," he replied taking a sip of his tea, "If you have a name, wouldn't you like to be called by that name instead of having someone referring to you as 'human'?"

I was still not picking up on it completely, but I played along. "So what's it's name?"

"Couldrazor..." he said smiling, "and this tea is excellent, sir."

"That foil has a name, huh?" I wondered aloud. "I guess that there are stranger things out there on the Grand Line, but that's pretty weird."

"Well, that's just a matter of opinion," he said turning his gaze to my scope. "Would it be all right if I looked at that now?"

"Sure," I said handing it to him.

He ran it through his fingers and turned it over and over in his hands for a minute or two. Then he started plucking at the outer wooden shell with the device raised up close to his ear. After that he put it to his eye and started looking around the room at different objects.

"That's pretty interesting," he said handing it back to me, "I would have said that you were a stargazer when I first saw it next to you, but it doesn't seem like it's powerful enough for that."

I looked at my Uncle quickly for approval. He sighed and nodded his head.

"You're right. I made that to magnify objects ten miles away, not ten million miles away. It's a scope that I invented to replace the sight on my rifle."

That seemed to peak his interest a little. His eyes opened a little wider and he raised up from his tea cup. "Rifle?" he asked.

"Yep. I'm a sharpshooter," I said proudly, "The sight on my rifle doesn't have as much range as I need it to, so I built this to compensate."

"Interesting..." he said obviously mulling over something, "What is your name?"

"My name is Turning Arcshaw. Nice to meet you," I replied, "How about you?"

"I'm Lowwe... Lowwe Mykhail Lemming. Nice to meet you too," he said back. And then he suddenly started chuckling. "Very interesting..." he muttered taking another sip of tea, "and very good tea too."

Just as I was about to ask him why he was laughing, he suddenly said, "Hey, what you got there?" He was pointing at the bounty poster on the counter. "You planning on sniping down a bounty? I don't know if I would try it with that guy. He's pretty strong."

"Oh No," my Uncle jumped in, "I just gave him that poster to warn him about the new pirate in town. I like to try staying as safe as possible."

"That makes good sense," Lowwe said nodding in agreement with his tea in hand. "You can never be too careful."

"I'm kind of surprised," Uncle said. "You're not from around here, but you knew that this pirate was town?"

"Yes, sir," Lowwe said sipping away at his cup, "I take it upon myself to stay somewhat informed. It's my own way of being careful."

My Uncle laughed in response. "I like you," he said. "You're a pretty curious fellow. What do you do?"

Lowwe adjusted in his seat. The look of exhaustion on his face amplified as he took a moment to yawn. "Sorry about that," he said, " 'What do I do?' Well, sir... I'm a pirate."

My Uncle started laughing again, but I suddenly became suspicious. "A pirate?" I said insultingly as I could, "Why would you want to be a pirate?"

"Well..." Lowwe's tea had probably cooled off by then because he took a full swig rather than a tiny sip, "There are more reasons than I can tell you right now, but if I had to pick one, I would say that I'm a pirate because of the adventure."

Uncle was obviously very entertained by this guy because he opened up his laughter again. I couldn't understand it, though. Lowwe seemed like a decent person. Sure, I was willing to accept that he might be one of the more well-humored pirates, but something just didn't sit right about him. Or maybe, when I think back to it now, something didn't sit right with me.

"Whatever," I said. "Pirates get on my nerves--"

"Turning--!" my Uncle tried to interrupt, but I wasn't having it.

"No!" I snapped back. "They come in and do whatever they want. Most of them don't even have any sense of the word honor. They're trashy people, but no one cares to do anything about them. The marines don't help anyone because they're always off on their own personal missions of vendetta, and none of the locals can do anything because they aren't strong enough. Pirates get by on power. They practically rule this world because of it. Power is the absolute. I learned that from these damn pirates."

Lowwe swiveled his body around to face me completely again. He still looked tired, but all the same, he appeared razor sharp. Suddenly he broke out laughing. I just frowned and turned to my own drink. He was beginning to piss me off.

"I'm going to tell you a secret, Turning Arcshaw," he said, "so listen carefully."

He paused to finish the last of his tea. My Uncle was staring at me absolutely seething with anger. I knew his wrath was coming soon enough. Even so, I wasn't really paying attention. I may have looked like I was indifferent to the whole situation, but Lowwe's words had really caused my ears to pick up. I was hinging on every single syllable that emerged from his throat.

"As a pirate many people start out exactly like you. They believe that the universe is managed by the strong and the powerful and that the weak are just chess pieces for their grand plans. But let me tell you where true power comes from..." he paused in contemplation, "Tea."

A silence fell over each one of us.

"I'd like some more tea, sir," he said pointing to his empty cup.

"WHAAAAAAT?!" I yelled nearly falling off of my stool.

"Oh!" Uncle said, just as shaken as I was. He grabbed the teapot from under the counter and poured out some more hot water into the cup.

As Lowwe turned back to the counter and started fixing up his tea again he said, "True power comes from a person's capacity to dream. A lot of people don't realize that there are as many chances to grab dreams as there are stars in the sky. Maybe if you built that scope of yours for stargazing instead of sniping you would have seen that after all. Too many people are stuck here on earth. Life is about reaching up." He took a sip of his new cup and said, "Delicious, sir."

"Don't feed me that line of dreamy crap!" I said slapping my hand onto the counter. "People die going after dreams. Then, not only do they lose that dream, they lose their lives. What do you have to say to that?!"

He turned to me and smiled widely enough so that he bared his teeth like fangs. That smile was on the borderline of being absolutely wicked. He looked like a warrior who had resigned himself to death on the battlefield--a warrior who was literally glad to see that the grim reaper had not kept him waiting.

"I'd rather die living then live dyeing," he told me.

I opened my mouth to respond, and I was fortunate that the door to the bar opened again because I had nothing to say. It was clear to me at that point that this man was unlike any other pirate I had ever known. He had already pledged his life to a dream, and deep down I wanted to know what it was. I wanted to know because he had started a chain reaction in my thoughts that was causing me to believe--to believe that anything was possible. Maybe, just maybe, power was not as selective as I had imagined. I knew his name was Lowwe, but really... who was he?

At the door there was a another young man who looked taller and more mature looking than either one of us. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties. Once again, he did not not match the profile of the bounty poster. His hair was cut somewhat neatly and his right hand was tightly wrapped by a white bandage. He wore a gray T-shirt under an oversize black jacket whose sleeves were pulled up to his elbows. The shirt was tucked into a loose pair of long cargo pants with a black belt. On his feet he had a pair of old black work boots.

"We need to go," he said to Lowwe.

"Gotcha," Lowwe replied. He placed some beri on the counter for my Uncle and then stood up leaving half a cup of tea behind. He looked at me and said, "I'm not the only pirate with dreams... You take it easy, Turning Arcshaw."

He turned and walked toward the exit and I watched his back as he approached the other guy. Lowwe even looked tired in the way he carried his shoulders. Still, I couldn't get that smile he was wearing out of my head.

"Hey!" my Uncle said to his back. He stopped walking, but didn't turn. "You're a little short on beri to cover two cups of tea."

He stood there for a moment with his back to the counter. His open shirt rustled lightly with the breeze from outside.

"RUN!" he suddenly yelled. And despite the look of shock that the other guy wore on his face, they both took off from the bar and were gone.

Uncle stared at the scene before him and started laughing. I had gotten up to pursue, but he held out a hand. "Little ingrate pirates!" he yelled cackling. "I guess it's okay. I only gave him the hot water... he's the one who made the tea... Really, It's odd that he kept complimenting me."

"That was a strange pers--" I started, but Uncle suddenly started fuming at me.

"And you!" he yelled. "What the hell is your problem?! Do you always have to act like a little ungrateful punk?! Geez..." He started cleaning up the tea that was left behind. "Just be thankful that that was a good guy. Man, you don't see many pirates like him nowadays."

"Yeah I guess your right," I said looking back to the door again just for the heck of it. When I did, I saw the shadow of a body fill the smoky window. The door opened suddenly, and a gust of wind unnaturally rushed over the counter.

I was caught off guard. The head worth 47 million just walked into our bar.


	3. Arc 1:Part 3: Piracy in the Family

He was much skinnier than I had imagined from his mug shot on the bounty poster. His skin was pale and the smirk that he wore on his mouth was devious. His hair was thrown wildly like he had just stepped out of the wake of a powerful breeze, and it's platinum color matched the long gray buccaneer coat that he wore on his shoulders. Along the empty sleeves there were white lines that curled on their ends so they mimicked the motion of wind. Securing the waste line of his black pants was a long white cloth that had been wrapped around several times for use as a belt. Tucked in that belt was a long buck-knife that rested against his stomach. There he was--the 47 million beri man--Hutch "Whirlwind" Wallace.

"Turning," Uncle said, "I need you to go to the hardware store and pick up a new bottle opener."

I knew what he was thinking. He was planning to force me on an errand, so he could get me out of harm's way. I hated when he did that, and I protested. If something was going to happen, I wanted to be by his side.

"Don't start!" he yelled. "Just do what I tell you and get the damn bottle opener!"

I opened my jaw to respond, but he threw a fist at my face and knocked me to the floor. I could hear the pirate laughing behind me when I stood up with my hand to my cheek. I was grimacing as hard as I could at Uncle. I got the message, though. Rather than put up any more of a fight, I just obeyed. Before I moved to the exit, I grabbed my scope from the counter and placed it in my pocket. The black end stuck out a bit but not enough for me to worry that it might fall out.

As I walked past the pirate standing in the doorway, I did my best not to make any eye contact with him. The sound of laughter was still ebbing from his throat, and I absolutely hated him for it. I wanted nothing more than to shove it back down his throat, but what could I do? In my mind, he was the one with all of the power. Part of me was even surprised that he let me past.

Outside in the sunlight, two people were standing near the entrance of the bar. They were each armed with a pair of pistols. It was plainly obvious that they were the comrades of "Whirlwind" Wallace. I just put my head down and did my best to appear invisible. It seemed like it took forever to pass them, but once I did my mind instantly cleared. I sprinted off to the hardware store at full speed. From where I was, it was at least a twenty minute trip to get there even if I ran. Whether the errand was real or not, my uncle wouldn't be able to say anything if I just completed the task. I had to move fast.

I moved as quickly as I could, and I made good time. It only took me about fifteen minutes to arrive. I didn't know I could run that fast over such a distance. I looked for the bottle opener as hastily as I could. My concentration was thrown off a little bit because I was so tired from the long run. Still, my panting and wobbly knees didn't prevent me from overhearing the shop owner talking with an employee about the pirate that I had left at the bar with Uncle.

"I hear they're docked at the McNair ports on the north side of town," he said.

"Yeah, that's true," the employee replied. "You can literally climb up on the roof of your house and see their ship. Even if the Marines were here they couldn't do anything about it because that's a private port. It's protected from any searches that aren't legally certified, and sometimes certification takes months to approve."

"It'll be best when those pirates just leave. This town is always so stressful when those kind of people show up."

I might have joined into the conversation if I wasn't in a hurry, but I had to get back as soon as possible. I purchased Uncle's item and sprinted out of the door.

On the way back, I could feel my legs giving out. I breathed heavily as a sharp pain began to sting me in the chest. All signs in my body were telling me to stop, but I had to push on. I had to get back as soon as possible. The more I thought about it, the more I knew I shouldn't have left. I should have just stayed there and let Uncle beat the crap out of me for disobeying his orders.

For some reason, in that instant, the smile of Lowwe Mykhail Lemming flashed before my eyes. That smile of a man who had already given up his life. I thought hard about what a pirate's life was like. Could I be like him? I wondered.

That fantasy abruptly came to a halt when I saw a small crowd gathered outside of my Uncle's bar in the distance. When I skidded to a stop at the back of gathering, I saw a bunch of familiar faces from around the neighborhood. An old man who owned a shop from across the street walked up to me.

"You've got to go in and talk to your Uncle," he said. "He refuses to let anyone else come in to help him out."

"What happened?!" I asked frantically.

"No one knows," he replied, "But it has something to do with those pirates. They just left here only a couple of minutes ago."

"Okay," I said, "Let me through." I squeezed past the crowd working against the resisting forces of the people surrounding the bar. Soon enough, I emerged to a clearing that bordered the entrance. I gasped at what I saw.

All of the windows had been blown out and now laid shattered on the ground. Even the bar door itself was scattered into a million pieces before my feet. I took a deep breath to calm myself down, and I slowly walked through the doorway out of the sun and into the cool shade of the bar.

Inside it looked like a tornado had struck the place. Every piece of furniture was thrown about the floor either broken or turned upside down. Even the decorations on the wall had been ripped off and torn to pieces. Broken bottles laid scattered about the room, and the smell of alcohol penetrated through the air. My uncle was sitting on a stool at the counter of the bar with what was probably the only intact bottle of alcohol. It was unopened.

"Turning..." he said quietly, "pull up a chair. I have something to tell you."

"Uncle, I--"

"PULL UP A DAMN CHAIR, TURNING!" Uncle screamed, "You think you can just listen to for once! Geez...!"

I stood there without answering for a moment. He kept his back to me the entire time. That wasn't like him. I grabbed a stool from the floor and quickly took a glance back at the crowd outside. I motioned for them to stay back. After setting the stool down next to him, I took a seat facing his side.

"Do you have the bottle opener?" he asked.

I pulled the object out of my pocket and handed it to him. He removed its plastic wrapping and set to work on the bottle that was sitting on the counter. After opening it, he put the container to his lips and took three full gulps.

"Turning," he said," very few people know what I'm about to tell you." He took another drink from the bottle. "I used to be pirate--not a very good one, mind you. My crew was never really cut out for the Grand Line, and we disbanded only after we had set through a couple of islands on our log pose. This was, in fact, the last major island that we ever made it to as a whole." He paused to drink again. "Your father was a member of that crew as well. We had many good times together and we were very close."

I opened my mouth. I didn't do so to speak--I did so out of disbelief. This was the first time my Uncle had ever really said anything about my parents.

"Me and your father grew apart when we reached this island, though. I wanted to continue on with the last of my crew mates, but he wanted to stay. You see, he had found a reason to stop being a pirate... he had found your mother." Uncle finally turned to face me, a rose glow of drunkenness was beginning to form on his cheeks. "I knew I couldn't convince him to leave, so he stayed behind to start a family, and I bid him farewell." He took another drink. "Now, what many people don't know about this path through the Grand Line is that the log pose will eventually run into a very strong current that can push a ship right out of the Grand Line and into the Calm Belt. If a ship gets stuck in the calm belt, all bets are off... you become food for the Sea Kings. A skilled navigator--or maybe even a really lucky crew--might be able to manage that current, but for all other ships it spells out the end of the journey."

I was literally hinging on every word that my uncle spoke. I wondered if the fact that he was drunk actually made him more reasonable and sensitive. I didn't know what was more fascinating--the history of my parents or the fact that he was a pirate. I never would have guessed it. Even more of a surprise was the fact that my Dad was a pirate too... What was the world coming to?

"Like I said, our crew wasn't really cut out for the Grand Line," he continued, "so, about nine months into the new journey, our navigator--who wasn't worth a damn--ran head first into that current. Our ship was pushed into the Calm Belt, and the Sea Kings devoured our vessel." He sighed deeply as he sifted through his memories. "I don't know what kind of miracle God pulled out of his ass to save me... Somehow, the force of the impacts from the Sea Kings threw me away from the Calm Belt and back into the currents of the Grand Line. I grabbed onto a piece of debris and held on for dear life. Some more fortune even swam my way when I discovered a container of supplies. I floated around for a long long time. I don't even know how long... one month maybe two. Either way, some crazy twist of fate crossed my path again when a civilian ship sailed nearby and picked me up. I still can't believe it to this very day... they were sailing with an Eternal Pose back to this island. It seemed like I was destined to be here."

Tears started to flow down Uncle's cheeks. I couldn't believe my eyes. He never cried. So many different unknown dimensions of a man I had known all of my life were suddenly rushing to the surface. Who was this guy? I wondered. It felt as if I were meeting him for the first time.

"Stuff like that doesn't happen on the Grand Line," he said. "This sea takes things away... it never gives back. I couldn't explain it for the life of me." He wiped his tears and took another drink. "When I came back to this town--the same town in which I said goodbye to your father about a year and a half earlier--I found you, just a baby, with a foster family that I had known before I left. I was told that the Marines had caught up with your father. Apparently, your mother begged and begged for those Marines to leave him alone. He had given up the life of a pirate, after all... But the Marines wouldn't have it." He sighed deeply. "In the end, your mother put up such a fight that she was taken along with him. I don't know where your parents are now. They may be dead, or they may be alive in Impel Down... that wretched Marine prison."

I could tell now that that bottle of alcohol was his sustenance for his story. He replenished his drying wells of confidence and continued, "That pirate you just saw--that 47 million beri man--he was in here asking for information about that current that pushes ships into the Calm Belt. I don't know how he found out about my career as a pirate..."

My Uncle took a final gulp of the the drink and threw the bottle across the broken-down bar. The glass crashed violently against the wall. I flinched at the sound.

"Either way," he said, "I knew back when I saw you as that young baby... I knew at that point that my life had been saved for one purpose and one purpose alone... to protect and raise you into the best kind of a man that you could be. I don't know if I've done a good job, but I tried my best." Then he put his hand to his face. "I hope you can find it in you to forgive me for not telling you the whole story sooner... I guess I was just afraid for you. I know now that I was wrong."

He looked at me hard for minute. I could tell he was waiting for me to say something, so I obliged. "I don't get it..." I said slowly, "We've been through stuff like this before... What made you tell me all this right now? I doesn't make any sense."

My uncle, for the first time in a while, had the faintest sign of a smile flash upon his face. "I guess it was that young man we met earlier today. What was his name...? Lowwe, right? I guess he made me remember that there are pirates with real dignity out there in the world. Your parents were nothing to be ashamed of... I forgot that. That young bastard today finally made me remember. I thank him for that."

He put his fist down on the counter and tapped it twice against the wood. I don't really know what he meant by that gesture, but now I figure that it was a gesture of respect--deep respect.

"Old man," I said standing up from the counter, "if you can do that, then you can forgive me for breaking the promise that I made to you." A new fury was bubbling inside me. Lowwe's toothy smile came to my eyes yet again. "If I'm the son of a pirate... then there is no way in hell that I would let that bastard get away for what he did to this bar! I'M SICK AND TIRED OF SITTING BACK AND WAITING! IT'S TIME FOR SOME JUSTICE, DAMMIT!!"

With that, I threw my hands into the air and jetted upstairs. I grabbed my rifle and a few rounds of ammunition from my room, and loaded up on the way back down. When I emerged back to the bar some people from the crowd had come inside to help clean things up. My uncle stood before me.

"I know I can't stop you," he said, "but there is no way in hell that I'd let you go alone."

On his back, I just noticed he was carrying a long rifle with a hexagon barrel. It was a beautiful gun. A classic, to say the least. I opened and closed my mouth in shock.

"What did you think me and your Dad did on that pirate ship?" he asked. "You got your skills from somewhere!"

I smiled widely. I could barely contain myself. Finally, I wasn't going to have to sit back and watch. I was going to take things into my own hands and forge my own path. Maybe power wasn't so far away after all. And as far as death was concerned... it was the last thing on my mind.

My uncle and I ran off in the direction of "Whirlwind" Wallace. We had to move fast. There was a little parting gift we wanted to give him--a parting gift made of lead, copper, and gunpowder.


	4. Arc 1:Part 4: Street Duel

My sniper eyes could see them almost right away. I guessed that they were at least ten to fifteen minutes ahead. They were moving toward the north side of town most likely on their way back to their ship. It was bad luck for us to run into a crowd as we pursued them. The time for shopping had just reached the prime hour of the day, and it was becoming more and more difficult to run forward, let alone keep my eyes on the target so far ahead.

I could feel the anxious sweat building in the palm of my hand as I tightly gripped my rifle. I might have sniped those pirates from where I was if I wasn't worried about hitting anyone else. Sniping was also too sneaky for my taste at that instant. There was a part of me that wanted those pirates to know who did it. I wanted them to know that it was me and Uncle who had given them what they deserved. "Whirlwind" Wallace was the one I really wanted to see. I wanted him to realize that the person he laughed at so hard back in the bar was also the same guy who took him down. This fight was about pride, and it had to be face to face.

We had cut the gap down to about eight minutes when my uncle suddenly spoke through the sound of our feet slapping the dirt, "We're going to have to be careful... That Wallace character has some kind of strange ability. He might be a Devil Fruit user."

"Really!?" I said back in surprise. "How do you know, Old man?"

"It's hard to explain," he responded. "When he attacked the bar after I said that I wouldn't talk to him about that Grand Line, this odd wind started to blow around the bar. A few chairs stared to fly around, so I ducked beneath the counter for protection. Before I knew it, everything was flying around all over the place. It was like I was in the middle of a storm... When I came back up after things died down, the bar was completely ruined! The other two pirates that were with him weren't even involved at all. Wallace said that he would be around tomorrow expecting me to talk. I didn't say anything back, and he left... Pretty soon after that you came back."

"That's strange..." I said thinking. "That certainly does sound like a Devil Fruit. I suppose that we shouldn't expect any less. After all, that guy does have a 47 million bounty."

"Either way, stay on your toes. And take this too..."

Uncle ran up alongside me and handed me a flat round stone no bigger than a coin. It was grayish in color, but it had an odd feeling in my hands. It felt almost like it was moist--like Uncle had just pulled it out of a vat of water. I held it to my face as we ran, and suddenly it dawned upon me.

"Seastone! I didn't know you had something like this!"

"Yep," my uncle responded. "I always keep it close. Back in my pirate days that Seastone was handy against a lot of Devil Fruit users. Those guys sometimes think they're invincible, but if you touch that to their skin, they'll be even weaker than a normal person."

I rolled the stone around in the hand opposite to the one carrying the rifle. I was still getting over the fact that Uncle had been a pirate. That stone had been with him for a long time. I wondered if my father had ever held it as I was holding it right then.

"And one more thing..." Uncle said, "STOP CALLING ME OLD MAN!!"

He quickly raised his fist and brought it down over the top of my head. I nearly dropped the Seastone and fell onto my face. After staggering with my balance for a second, I regained my composure and got back up to running speed.

"Don't do that, dammit! We've got enemies to fight, and you're still hitting me! What the hell?!" I screamed at him at the top of my lungs.

"I slipped," he lied.

I couldn't do anything about it, so I just slid the Seastone into my pocket and said, "Whatever."

In good time, we were close enough to "Whirlwind" Wallace for me to see the wild outline of his platinum hair dancing around among heads of innocent bystanders.

"I think it's time," my uncle said staring ahead. He raised is gun straight into the air and fired off two shots as he ran. People in the street began to move rapidly in search of cover, and very suddenly a radius of open space began to form centering around the echoing sounds of Uncle's smoking gun.

An open path now lay before us. Low and behold, at the very end of that path those three pirates stood in a line smirking at our approach. Wallace stood in the middle of his two comrades with his arms folded.

They looked like they were begging for us to fire at them. The road was open, and the shot was clear. I still don't know what restrained the both of us from doing it. I guess it was our sense of honor. Like I said, this fight was about pride. A truly prideful man does not attack an enemy without an equal ground to strike. If anything, me and Uncle were willing to be the underdog. After all, we were normal, and he was probably a Devil Fruit user. We were civilians, and he was in the prime of his piracy. And lastly, we were weak and he was strong... but this last fact was changing every second. And really, it was our belief in this last fact that made all of the difference.

We pulled up to a stop. Only a single length of road separated us from the pirates. Adrenaline made it impossible for me to acknowledge my fatigue. I barely even panted even though I had been running around all damn day.

"So, have you come to your senses?!" Wallace yelled from his end of the road. "Have you decided to talk about the Grand Line, and how to navigate the current that destroyed your crew...?!" And then I heard him laugh that same laugh from the bar. I hated it already, and it had only fallen upon my ears twice so far in my lifetime. "Or have you come to do something foolish?! Right now, your life is important to me...! It would be very easy to change my sentiments if you move against me, Old man!"

My uncle and I yelled in near perfect unison:

"DON'T CALL ME OLD MAN!!"

"DON'T CALL HIM OLD MAN!!"

We looked at each other and smiled devilishly.

But Uncle turned back to the pirates and continued, "If you would have been a smarter pirate, you'd know that battles aren't always needed! I was never the best in my time, but I knew pirates who were twice as good as you! They knew when to pick battles! They knew when to stop and think!" And then Uncle looked at me, and spoke only to me, "They knew... he knew... when the fight was over." He faced the pirates again and opened his volume louder than ever. "I would have given you what you wanted if you came openly, but you might as well have put a knife to my throat!! For that, YOU WILL PAY!! YOUR PIRACY ENDS HERE!!"

From the glimmer of his eye and the sharpness of his voice, I could tell that Uncle was thinking of my father. After that, I wanted to meet my father and my mother more than ever. I hadn't thought of it much before then. I had always went along with my life unconcerned about my parents. I can't even completely remember what I had really thought of them. I might have just presumed that they were dead and carried on not caring anything about it. But part of me changed in that moment... I think it was right then and there that I decided that I would go out to sea to search for my parents. I didn't know how I would do it or where I would begin, but I knew where I had to go. It had become my dream.

I gripped my gun tightly and screamed, "THIS IS THE END OF LINE!!"

Me and Uncle nodded at each other and stood steady. Down at the other end of the road "Whirlwind" Wallace started to cackle wildly. "Very well..." he said barely audible at our distance, "Rush... Channing... show these two how fast you can draw your pistols."

The two companions stepped forward slowly. They paused only a few feet in front of their captain. They were dirty and savage looking pirates that looked like they would fit well in a crew with Wallace as captain. They both wore long black coats with pistols at either sides of their waste. One stared at me in the eye as the other fixed on Uncle. The pirate across from me had fiery red hair and a grin that showed a grill of teeth with several missing gaps. His eyes were cold and black, and he looked as if he hadn't slept in days.

As I looked into those charcoal eyes, it dawned upon me. This was pirates duel. Uncle and I had stepped face first into firearm duel of speed where we were severely at a disadvantage. It was pistols against rifles for crying out loud! A thousand times out of a thousand the guy with a pistol was supposed to win in a fight at close quarters. Luckily, in my individual hours of training I had focused quite a bit of time on the art of quick-draw fire in close range with a rifle. It wasn't easy training either. I remember spending months upon months trying to hit a target using my rifle for quick-draw before I could really start honing my accuracy. I wasn't really worried for myself, though. I was concerned about Uncle. To be a pirate on the Grand Line, no matter how bad, takes a great degree of skill, and I didn't doubt that for one second. I did suspect, however, that old age and a lack of practice might have withered away his abilities. Quick-draw was hard even for someone like me, but for an unpracticed elder-guy it was probably a thousand times worse! I started to rummage through my mind about how to tip the scale in our favor. I had just begun to blueprint a plan in my head about how to take out both guys when Uncle stealthily interrupted the dead silence between us.

"Don't kill them," he whispered. "Shoot their hands and make it impossible for them to fight... That will be a worse punishment for what they have done... they don't deserve death. We'll deal with Wallace afterward..."

My confidence was restored. I returned to my immediate enemy, and whispered back, "Right."

The next few moments will always be crystalized in my mind perfectly. The silence and the stillness before all four of us would fire our weapons was nerve wracking. I kept my eyes on the man with red hair, and he stared right back. If you wanted to live through a quick-draw, you had to watch the eyes. That was where you would get the first clue about their movements and their thoughts. The eyes told you if they were fearful, decisive, or merciless. The eyes could tell you if they would be still or if they would be restless. The best gun fighters could mask their eyes to show you whatever they wanted you to see, but I couldn't think about that... I had to trust myself. I was looking for a tell--a sign that he would draw his pistol for the kill. I had to beat him to the punch.

The wind blew eerily in that instant. The hollow sound filled my ears and howled. Then, just as suddenly as it came, it was gone. That was it. Those black eyes told me everything in that second. I drew my rifle as fast as I could, and pushed my body down to the right. I fired, cocked, and then fired again. Outside of my own sphere of gunshots, I heard three more blasts of gunpowder. One of those other three shots screamed past my ear. If I didn't throw myself down, I would have been dead.

I hit the ground on my right side and a cloud of dust flew from beneath me. Nothing had hit me. I was unscathed. I scanned the area as fast as I could. I suddenly became aware of the hollering of the red-haired guy across from me.

"AHHH!! That shitty kid shot me in the hands!!" he screamed. Blood was pouring from his palms. He clutched his hands to his chest as he rolled around on the ground.

I was somewhat elated to see that Wallace no longer had a smirk on his face, but I couldn't take time to relish in his look. I knew my guy was down for the count--he wouldn't be able to pull a trigger for the rest of life--but I had to make sure of the other. I got up to my knees and found him on the ground cradling his right hand. His pistol had dropped a short distance away. When he noticed that my eyes had landed upon him, he hastily started to crawl toward his fallen gun with his healthy side. Because he had a free hand to use, he was dangerous, so I took the only precaution available. I cocked again and shot his left hand just before he reached the gun. He keeled over just like the red-haired pirate and yelled his head off.

We did it. We had won this round of the duel. I rapidly thought back into my immediate memory. Aside from the two shots I had taken, I remembered that there were three others. One had flown past my ear, and the other must have come from Uncle's gun and hit the other guy's right hand. There was one more shot for which I had to account. Suddenly, a pang of fear hit me.

"Uncle!!" I yelled.

Next to me, I had just noticed that Uncle was on the ground clutching the shoulder of his right arm. Blood was leaking steadily from a bullet entry point. Uncle did his best to apply pressure on the wound with his left hand. I rushed over to him and noticed the ground beneath him soaking red. My hands were shaking, and I felt my knees buckling.

Uncle eyeballed me carefully. "Calm down," he said suddenly, "This is nothing. There is still an enemy out there. You have to focus on him. I'll be fine."

I wanted to ignore him. I was very scared. For the first time since I left the bar to find "Whirlwind" Wallace, I tasted fear. If it was my own arm that was shot, I probably wouldn't have cared any less. Because it was my uncle, I was nearly frozen with worry. But I knew he was right. The only reason I was in that situation at all was because of the man just down the road. Reluctantly, I nodded and secured my rifle.

"Don't die," I said. And then I stood to face Wallace.

During the entire transaction of gun shots, Wallace had remained as motionless as a statue. He watched the entire duel with his arms folded, and even as his men were yelping and screaming in pain at his feet, he did not respond. How could someone be so calm? I thought.

The red-haired pirate that I put down crawled to Wallace's feet and tugged at his pant leg. I couldn't tell what he was saying from my distance, but I knew he was begging. Wallace looked at him.

"SHUT THE HELL UP!!" he yelled. Still, the guy persisted to beg. He probably hadn't heard Wallace through his own screaming, or maybe he just didn't care.

Wallace suddenly brought his foot back and swiftly kicked him in the face. The red-haired man fell unconscious into the dust a few feet away. Even at my distance, I could tell by the sudden deformity in his face that his nose was absolutely shattered. After witnessing what happened, the other pirate bit his arm to keep quiet. Wallace turned back to me and smiled coldly.

"You're very good, kid!" he yelled down the street. "I've never seen anyone pull a rifle so quickly that he actually beat someone with a pistol! Not only that, those two bullets you fired at Rush's hands sounded like they were only one shot...! You're very fast!"

"So what?!" I yelled back. "It doesn't matter at all!! You're about to get a taste of it too!!"

"Oh, it does matter...! Why don't you put down that gun and join my crew! You just took out the two best gunners I have!! It's practically your obligation--!!"

"Screw you!!," I said. "There is no way in hell that I'd join your crew!! First, you insult my uncle! Then, you ruin his bar! Now, you've tried to kill him!! Like he said before, this is it for you!! THIS IS WHERE YOUR PIRACY IS OVER!!"

Wallace laughed harder than ever. " 'THIS IS IT' YOU SAY!! I take it back...! A fool like you could never exist as a pirate!! Why don't you fire that gun at me right now, and find out how much of a chance you had to begin with!! YOU THINK YOU CAN STOP ME!! I AM 'WHIRLWIND' WALLACE!"

I needed no more provocation. I lined up my sights right at Wallace's head and felt the trigger squeeze beneath my finger like it was a reflex. I knew damn well that I was going against Uncle's orders by taking a death shot, but I didn't care. The bullet flew true--my bullets always flew true--but the Grand Line is a place where the impossible can smack you in the face on a daily basis... literally. Fantasy can become reality, up can become down, and true can become false.

There was no way I could have been prepared for what happened next.


	5. Arc 1:Part 5: The Third Worst Ever

Wind. It came without warning. It instantly thickened the air and wildly threw force everywhere. Wallace vanished from my sights behind a wall of thick dust that cascaded upward and crashed into a veil that sprung from near my feet. It all happened so quickly that I couldn't even tell whether or not my bullet had sunk its teeth into his skull. The wind didn't stop either. As if it had a mind of its own, it pushed the dust into an even column that spun around me with the growing currents.

I could feel the clothing on my body ripple and snap as the strength of the wind began to magnify and swirl more intensely. I gripped my rifle tighter and knelt to the ground. The turbulence was nearing the point where it could pick me up and throw me wherever it desired. I did my best to stay calm and to keep thinking logically, but my mind was wandering into the realm of confusion. What is this? I wondered. What the hell is happening?!

As the wind got faster and faster, I became worried about Uncle's condition. I squinted hard for a sign of him. My field of view was very limited because of the spinning wall of dust, but that still didn't explain why I couldn't see him. I remembered that his body was lying close by before the wind even started, so even with the dirt blocking my view, he should have still been within my range of sight. But he was nowhere to found. I guessed that in the confusion of everything, the wind must have grabbed him.

Things were getting stranger and stranger by the second. I had to find a way to pull things back into perspective. I made a motion to get up and escape through the column wall of dust, when I discovered that completely and utterly stuck. The wind was somehow squeezing down on my body, trapping me within a thick grasp that felt as if it were the fist of a giant. The air moved around me awkwardly. It compressed my clothing to my skin and squeezed my limbs into my torso.

Suddenly, I felt pry at my weapon. I squeezed my hands even tighter around the wood and steel of the rifle. The wind seemed to anticipate my actions. It pried my fingers open despite my efforts and tossed the rifle through the dust and out of sight. I struggled to get free--to make chase after my only weapon, but there was literally nothing I could do. The hand of wind had me.

It squeezed down slowly around my body. My bones and joints began to cry out in pain as the forced wrapped around me tighter and tighter. My ribs must have cracked under the pressure at that point because I felt a sudden surge of pain pulse through my chest. It was unbearable. I screamed and yelled more than ever. The fist seemed to relish in my cries of pain because it continued squeeze and compress even more. If it wanted, it probably could have ripped me in half right on the spot.

The electric jolts of pain were causing my body to give way. My eyes started to lose focus, and my vision walked closer and closer toward darkness. I remember wondering if I was going to die. My breath was leaving. My ears were humming. It felt like I had left my physical being behind for something else. It was almost peaceful. The pain was gone.

I wonder if death is always like that...

But then, in one foul instant, everything came back. I hit the ground with a thud. The impact jarred every little bone back into my sensation. I realized the truth--the truth that I wasn't dead. Either that, or I was in hell.

I opened my eyes. They could see again. The wind was gone. The wall of dust had vanished as well. Everything was quiet and peaceful. I tested my arms and quickly regretted the decision to do so. The bones were definitely fractured. That fist of wind had broken my body in ways that I didn't even realize. I knew that I would risk further injuries by moving around, but the only way I was going to be able to have a decent look around was if I got up off my face. I had to find Uncle, and I had to see what happened to Wallace. I took a deep breath and felt stings of hurt resonate through my ribs again. "Lets go," I said.

First, my arms. Then, my chest. Then, my head. I crept slowly through strength and pain until I finally managed to get myself up onto my knees. That was it for me. After that, I wasn't going to be able to move. I accepted that fact as gracefully as I could, and forced my head up.

The first image that hit my eyes when my chin lifted convinced me that I had survived everything for nothing. I was convinced right then and there that I was going to die.

It was him. He hadn't moved a single inch from when I pointed my gun at his head and pulled the trigger. He was quietly chortling to himself, while flipping some small object that I couldn't see up and down into the palm of his hand.

A tear of blood rolled down my forehead from somewhere on top of my head. It didn't matter where it was from. I felt it tickle my skin all the way down my sweaty skin until it expanded into my eyeball. I mechanically wiped it away. I had no gun. I could not stand to fight. Hell, I couldn't even be a coward and run. I was defenseless. It was over. What could I do? It had all happened so fast. Question after question piled into my brain. Like an alcoholic fixated on sake or wine, I had become fixated on one word. It bounced around inside my skull and made my heart flutter faster and faster.

"How?" I breathed through blood.

To this day of my entire existence, I have never since asked a question with that word. You might say it was the one impression that "Whirlwind" Wallace left on my psyche. Up to that point in my life, the instant I choked out that word was the lowest that I had ever gotten. I felt that I was scraping the bottom of the barrel. Later on, as I became more experienced and wiser, I realized that the barrel was much deeper than I had first perceived. In truth, my time with Wallace was only the third worst of my life. That, of course, is a story for a different day.

Wallace consumed my anguish with glee. He began to walk closer.

"That's right..." he said, "bow before your king."

And then I saw it.

The object Wallace was playing with came into solidified view. When he noticed my eyes glue onto it, he threw the small item in my direction. It rolled along the ground a ways, and came to rest near my knees. My eyes widened. The answer had suddenly become clear.

It was the bullet I had just fired.

He walked closer toward me still. In time, he was in normal earshot, and he began to speak. The tone of his voice was low and wicked. I could tell he wanted my blood. I was, after all, in no position to protect it. "I'm a pirate," he said smirking, "I know how battles are fought, but more importantly, I know how to win. Your fight was lost before it started! I'm a user of the Gufuu Gufuu Fruit! I'm a walking Tornado-Man! Bullets, stones, even armies of men... if you send them toward me, I'll just have one of my tornado winds blow it away! You never had a chance here! Why do you think they call me 'Whirlwind!?' "

He stood before me staring down at my bloodied face. I looked at him through squinted eyes. I tried to move my arms and reach inside my pocket. Uncle's Seastone was calling me. I pushed more and more, but my body wouldn't allow it. My arms were puffy and swollen. The breaks inside were crying for me to let them heal. I had finally found a piece of hope, something that I could rely on that was literally inches away from use, but, almost as if some higher power was mocking me, I couldn't reach it. It was almost funny. I think I even smiled a little bit because Wallace's tone threw at me more harshly. When you're about to die, you suddenly become very entertained by irony.

"So what do you have to say now..." he asked, "before I kill you?"

It was a joke to me now, so I told the him punch-line. "I have a Seastone," I said in a raspy voice, "but I can't reach it. My arms are broken. Isn't that funny?"

Wallace looked at me quizzically. I had obviously confused the hell out of him. But soon, he started laughing wildly. "Too bad," he said drawing his fist back for the kill. I could feel a breeze draw itself inward toward his fist. He must have been gathering up his tornado winds to intensify the power of the blow. This was it. "If you were smart you would have joined. Now, you'll just be dead."

"Whirlwind" Wallace's fist began to descend toward my face in slow motion. Everything that had led up to that point flashed before my eyes. The bottle opener, the bounty poster, Uncle's bar... I recalled what I had always thought about the Grand Line: that power was absolute. I remember the feeling of stupidity that was pushing through my veins as Wallace's fist slipped ever closer. I remember thinking that I should have just stuck with what I always believed. Why did I let myself think that there was hope? How could I let myself even consider that I had power. I had nothing. I was just weak. I was born to be controlled by the will of the powerful. Now, I was just going to be another bloodstain on the map of the Grand Line.

But it inexplicably stopped. Wallace's fist abruptly halted in mid stroke and hovered completely still just centimeters away from my face. Even the winds that had wrapped around his arm were gone. He was staring down at his forearm with a look of sheer surprise and disbelief on his face. I turned my head to see what he was looking at, and I nearly fell right into Wallace fist from shock.

On Wallace's forearm, a short young man probably about the same age as me was standing on all four limbs like a dog. He was wearing brown shorts, a bright red T-shirt with rolled up sleeves, and a pair of heavy duty leather gloves that looked like they were for carpentry work. He seemed normal enough, but the craziest thing about him was that he held Wallace's right arm in between his teeth. He bit Wallace-!! My life was saved my someone pretending to be a dog-!!

I expected Wallace to throw him off or to use his winds to crush the guy like he had done to me, but Wallace seem as if he could barely even move. His body was shaking and his face wore an expression of unbelievable fear. It was like he was placed into submission.

The young man stood up slowly to his feet with Wallace's arm still in his teeth. Wallace didn't even resist. He was completely at the will of the other guy. I followed their movements with an open jaw. Even through all of my pain, I was able to appreciate the wildness of the scene that was unfolding before me.

"Miff iff ip fo uuu." He said in an unintelligibly muffled voice. As he spoke he slowly lifted one of his legs into a position to kick Wallace in the stomach.

When his foot raised into the air, I noticed that he wore a pair of thick boots on each of his feet. They were heavy workman's boots, and they made his feet look huge since he was wearing shorts instead of pants. What was curious about his boots, however, was that their soles had a metallic coating that lined the rubber on the bottom. I didn't have to think very hard to recognize that metal as Seastone.

"B-bastard!" Wallace choked out.

In a wave of power the young guy shot his foot into "Whirlwind" Wallace's ribs. I heard a cracking sound resonate through the air, and I felt a shock-wave pulse free from the kick. The strike happened so fast that I didn't really even see it. The guy let Wallace's arm go from his teeth, but, at that instant, Wallace had become a moot point. His eyes had gone blank, and the life in his face turned to unconsciousness. "Whirlwind" was done. His body flew through the air a good fifteen feet away, and he landed limply in the dirt. The 47 million beri man was out cold from a single kick. The battle was over.

After I watched Wallace land to his defeat, I rolled my head to look at the young man who had saved my life. He was crouched over on the ground spiting and cleaning his tongue with his hands.

"Ack-!! That guy tasted horrible!!" he yelled.

I just stared at him open-mouthed. When he noticed me he laughed out loud. He seemed like a really jovial person, and he didn't mind howling with laughter in front me even when I was almost inches from death.

"Sorry about that," he said chuckling. "I bet you're a little confused. Take a look." He opened his mouth wide so that all of his teeth sparkled in the sunlight.

"It's your mouth," I said confused, "You bit him."

He closed his jaw and laughed. "I know that, but you should look closer." He opened his jaw again.

I lazily inspected each tooth when I realize that his lower left canine sparkled much more dully compared to the rest. The tooth was blueish--just like the stone in my pocket, and just like soles of the young guy's boots. It was a tooth made of Seastone.

It made sense. "Whirlwind" Wallace must have fallen into submission because the tooth lodged itself into his skin. The realization must have shown through to my face because the guy smiled even more widely.

"You get now, don't you? My name Gregsbison Kujiman. I know my name sounds funny, but it's still cool. People call me 'Gregsbi' for short. Pleased to meet you."

"I'm Turning," I said. I was in no position for a formal introduction. It felt like there was something wrong with every part of my body.

He laughed again. "Turning, you're certainly an interesting fellow. I was watching the battle for a long time. You're very good with a rifle." He smiled more and more. I wondered if he ever stopped smiling.

"You were watching..." I said as angrily as I could. I was about to ask him why he didn't help sooner when I realized that he didn't necessarily have to come help at all. In the end, I just said, "Thanks for your help. I was a goner."

Gegsbi smiled still wider. "No problem, but we need to get you some help." Gregbi quickly moved himself in front of me and hoisted my body over one of his shoulders. The pain from my body flared up as I was in transit, but it subsided back to its regular ache when I was positioned upon his back.

"Wait," I said. "We can't leave my uncle. He's still somewhere around here."

I could feel Gregsbi laugh even though I couldn't see his face.

"Don't you worry. I pulled your uncle out of the way back when that pirate started to use his Gufuu Gufuu fruit. I probably didn't have to, but I wanted to be safe. We're going to pick him up before we head back to your house. What did you think my other shoulder is for?"

"I don't get it. I didn't see you get Uncle," I said.

Gregsbi's body vibrated again in laughter. "Well, that's understandable. You see, I'm pretty fast. A normal person probably wouldn't be able to pick me up with their naked eye unless they were really trying their hardest. You had other things on your mind at the time, so I probably just slipped right under your nose."

I was still confused, but I kind of accepted it. I accepted it mostly because I didn't feel like talking anymore. Deep down, I thought he was exaggerating. I didn't believe anyone could be as fast as he suggested. But as we started moving, I looked at the ground and saw it shoot past. His legs were a blur and the friction from his speedy feet made the Seastone on the bottom of his shoes glow orange. Suddenly, Uncle was beside me, and even more suddenly I was in the bar and then up the stairs.

Gregsbi found Uncle's large bed and placed both of our bodies down as gently as he could. Without warning, the sound of a door opening filled my ears. I heard footsteps and two voices enter the bedroom in mid-conversation. I thought I recognized one voice, but the other was certainly familiar.

I sat up as best as I could to took a look at the newcomer. My pain was suddenly replaced by awe.

"Captain!!" Gregsbi yelled happily. "You got here faster than I expected."

"Captain?" I breathed quietly.

There it was again. I thought it would only remain a memory, but that fearless smile opened up to my face once more.

It was Lowwe Lemming... Captain Lowwe Lemming.


	6. Arc 1:Part 6: Nakama

"Gregsbi," Lowwe said, "these guys are beat up pretty badly. You didn't get carried away with being a spectator, did you?"

Gregsbi laughed and hopped into a nearby chair. He didn't sit. Instead, he crouched his body down like a frog and supported himself on the furniture with his hands. He smiled widely to Lowwe before saying, "No way, captain. I did just like you asked. I kept an eye on the situation after 'Whirlwind' Wallace left the bar and I stepped in when things got life-threatening. These guys are really strong. They'll be able to handle it."

Gregsbi looked at me and gave two thumbs up. That big grin never left his face.

Gregsbi wasn't my main focus, however. My eyes were glued to Lowwe Lemming. He walked over in front of us and carefully inspected Uncle and me with his eyes.

"I guess you're right..." Lowwe said not breaking the link his dark eyes had established with our wounds. "Sender, you'll be able to handle them, right?"

I then remembered that I had heard Lowwe talking to someone outside the door. I turned my head to see the man named Sender. I had seen him once before: he was the same man that had beckoned Lowwe to leave the bar just a little while before 'Whirlwind' Wallace showed up.

The only difference in his appearance from before was that the sleeves on his black jacket were now pulled down to his wrists. He seemed a little more serious about the situation than Gregsbi or Lowwe, and it was comforting to know that there was at least someone in the room who had an idea of what we were going through.

Sender walked over and stood next to Lowwe. Sender was at least half a head taller if not more. Now that I was able to get a better look at him, I noted that his hair was deep brown and his eyes were a sharp copper. He looked much more mature than Lowwe or Gregsbi. His presence even reflected a sense of wisdom and understanding well beyond his probable age of about 24 or 25.

"Yes," he said in a lazy deep voice, "They'll be fine. I can fix this guy's wounds pretty fast, but the old man is going to take some more time."

"That's fine," Lowwe said, "Fix Turning up first, then. I would like to have a talk with him on the roof anyway. By the time we come back down, I'm guessing that you'll be all finished up."

"Absolutely," Sender said kneeling down and touching both of his hands to my wrist.

At first I was confused. I felt the rough sensation of the bandages that Sender had wrapped around his right hand, and I wondered what was happening. Like most of what I had experienced that day, it didn't make any sense.

But then, out of nowhere, I started to feel better. Piece by tiny piece my body's aches and pains were beginning to leave. Soon, I was even able to move without stings running up and down my flesh. After about five or ten minutes I sat up with wide eyes and touched the top of my head. Even the wound from earlier had closed up.

"What is this?" I asked. "Do you have some kind of healing powers?"

Sender removed his hands from my wrist and stared at me carefully. "No. This is far from any healing power. You still have to recover and take things easy for the next couple of weeks. If you think you're cured and you try to do something extraneous, you're going to wind up killing yourself. The best explanation I can give you for what I just did is one word: acceleration. I made your body work faster to heal itself back up." He then yawned before continuing, "There are still a bunch of details that your body needs to handle by itself, but this will do for now."

"Sender is our ship's doctor," Lowwe said. I saw Gregsbi in the background nodding his head to everything Lowwe said. "He is a user of the Chikara Chikara fruit. In other words, he is a human battery. He has the ability to supply a limitless amount of energy to whatever he wishes in whatever form he wishes be it mechanical, electrical, or, in this case, biological."

I stood up, making sure to take it easy just as Sender had instructed.

"Wow," I said, "I'm not sure if I completely understand it, but thanks a lot. Is Uncle going to be okay, too?"

Sender nodded. "No problem at all. I'm going to take care of your uncle right now. You, on the other hand, have business with Lowwe."

I turned to face Lowwe. "Don't worry about your uncle," he said. "He's in very good hands. For now, why don't you show me to your roof?"

I was trying to figure out what was going on, but I decided not to be difficult and follow along. These people, after all, had just saved our lives. They were pirates, but they still took time help us. It was so backwards.

I took a quick glance at Uncle. Sender was holding Uncle's wrist just as he held mine, and a look of intense concentration was plastered across his face. I nodded internally to myself and led Lowwe to the roof.

"Gregsbi, you come too," Lowwe said as we left the room.

I led the two up an attic ladder and to an opening through a skylight in the roof. During the rainy seasons the skylight was a hassle to close up, but weather had been good for several weeks up to that day, so Uncle and I had decided to open it up and let some more fresh air into the building.

When we emerged onto the roof, the wind blew softly in greeting. It was pleasing to feel such a gentle and quiet wind after going through the whole ordeal with Wallace.

Lowwe stepped up to the edge of the roof and looked out over the houses and the trees with one hand up to his forehead to shield the light from his eyes. I hadn't noticed it, but the Sun had crept quite low since Wallace first came into our bar. Nighttime would come in just a couple of hours.

"Gregsbi," Lowwe said, "do you see that ship over there at that port?"

Lowwe pointed far away to a port at the far north end of the town. Gregsbi walked next to Lowwe and squinted at the image. He nodded his head and smiled.

"Good. That's Wallace's ship. I want you to take Wallace and his two fallen crew members back to that ship. After you get there, I want you to take their flag. Don't let anyone stop you. Also, don't forget the original purpose of our mission here. After you have completed these tasks, I want you to disconnect the ship from dock and send it out to sea. That may involve you having to knock everyone on board out. Do it if you have to. Understood?"

"Yessir," Gregsbi said happily hopping up and down.

"Do it."

Before Lowwe even finished his command Gregsbi took off in the blink of an eye and a cloud of dust trailed the streets where he had ran.

I stood there on the roof completely flabbergasted and lost with what was going on. I couldn't wrap my head around Lowwe. He was actually showing Wallace mercy. That bastard deserved nothing at all.

I think Lowwe sensed my confusion because he turned to face me with a serious look on his face. "I may be a pirate, but that does not mean I'm in the business of death. In this world, it is more of a punishment to strip a man of his pride and his dreams--as wicked as they may be--rather than to strip him of his life."

He paused to take a deep breath. He looked around and leaned on a stubby chimney jutting from the black surface of the roof. His shirt flapped in the wind. Just like before, he looked tired.

"I don't understand you, Lowwe," I said. "To say the least, you're a very strange pirate."

Lowwe laughed out loud. So did I. We shared that moment together. It was true that I didn't really understand him, but part of me liked it that way. He had changed me. I had barely known him for more than an hour, but his impact would last a liftime.

"Have you ever heard the word 'nakama' before, Turning?" Lowwe asked after silence fell between us again.

"No," I said. "What does it mean?"

"In the deepest sense of the word, nakama means 'friend.' The one thing that I cannot stand is when someone stands in the way of the dreams of one of my nakama. I hold them closer to me than anything else and I will protect each and every one of them as we make our way through this sea. You've already met two of my nakama--Gregsbi and Sender--and there is one more waiting for us back at the ship... Take a look over that row of trees opposite to where Wallace's boat is docked."

I turned to see Wallace's boat and noted that its sails were pulled down and its flag was missing. After thinking of Gregsbi, I slid my eyes over the edge of town until I saw a mast sticking up from behind a thick green row of trees. I could barely make out the black of a Jolly Roger waving in the breeze.

"The name of that ship is 'Dos Os.' It was my first ever companion, and I see myself carried by her and only her through the waters of this world."

I nodded. I wasn't sure what Lowwe was getting at, but I didn't break my gaze from the mast in the distance. Somehow, I was transfixed by it. It was almost like there was a living presence ebbing from behind those treetops.

"Turning Arcshaw," Lowwe said with sudden force. I turned and looked at him carefully. He then flashed that wicked smile of his and asked, "Did you see it? Did you face death? What was it like?"

For the first time, I thought hard into my recent memory about the battle in which I had just partook. I remembered the moment that the fist of wind had wrapped its fingers around me, and I remembered the feeling of life slipping from my body. That was death. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind.

"Death," I said carefully looking into sky, "is a creepy bastard. I'd rather know when to expect it then to hide from it forever... That way I might be able to take it by surprise."

Lowwe laughed harder than ever and stood up as tall as I had ever seen him stand. "You certainly are interesting, Turning. I think I've made up my mind."

He put out his hand.

"What is your dream?" he asked.

I looked to his hand and then to his face. I'm still not sure if I completely understood the implications of what I was going to do, but I had only one answer to give him, so I grabbed his hand and said as fearlessly as I could, "Long ago, I lost my parents to the Grand Line. I want to go find them. I believe they are out there somewhere and I will see them again." Then, I paused. "What's yours... to become the 'King of the Pirates?' "

I said it sort of mockingly. I had been wondering what his goal was ever since I had first met him. I had already convinced myself that the reason he always looked so tired was because of the burdens that he chose to bear. What dream, I wondered, could weigh him down so much? Could he be so crazy as to attempt to become a Pirate King?

"Many men strive for that title, but it is not for me. In fact, I have already seen the man who will become the Pirate King. My dream is not that unrelated, however, for I wish to do what the Pirate King has never done. That, as you might imagine, is pretty hard to do. My goal is to find the Seed of the Sea, and if I died today in my search for it, I would say that I had lived a happy life."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Now that you're a part of my crew, you'll find out," Lowwe said smiling.

He let my hand go and turned to leave the roof. As his back was to me, I ran his words over and over inside my head. Suddenly, it dawned upon me.

"WHAT!? What do mean I'm a part of your crew?!" I said completely surprised.

"I mean exactly what I said," Lowwe replied, "You're my nakama now. I suggest you get your stuff together because we leave tomorrow morning."

I opened my mouth to respond, but I knew deep down that I would say nothing. I wondered if everything had lead to that point. Life, after all, works in bizarre ways. When I first met Lowwe, I wondered if I had already made up my mind to follow him to the ends of the earth.

"Turning," Lowwe said with his back to me, "there is one standing order on my ship."

He took my silence as an acknowledgment that I was listening intently. He was right.

"You are a pirate now. As a pirate and as a person, you will never ask yourself 'how' things got to be a certain way, or 'why' things are the way they are. Instead, you will ask yourself 'what' you can do and 'where' you can reach... Do you understand?"

I took a deep breath. "Yes... completely," I said.

Like I said before, I have not asked a single question like that to this very day. Lowwe was a unique individual, and his uniqueness had a way of changing the reality around him. Over the years he would not only become my deeply trusted captain and nakama, he would become a teacher whose words would quietly guide me to the limits of my imagination.

I was a pirate now. Very soon, I would set sail.


	7. Arc 1:Part 7: The Log

Out of nowhere, as Lowwe and I stood reflecting in a lull of quiet on the roof, Gregsbi suddenly flipped into vision with a neatly folded black flag tucked beneath his arm. His shirt had become a little dusty and his hair threw from his scalp with more chaos than before. After surveying him briefly, I noticed that my rifle was strapped to his back by a leather bind. He must have picked it up from the battlefield. I was relieved to see that it was still okay, but I was in no hurry to get it back into my hands so soon after the fight with Wallace. Instead, I listened intently to what he had to report.

He stood rigid before Lowwe and saluted him like he was a member of the Marines. Even then, Gregsbi's wide smile beamed from his face like a sun.

"Mission accomplished, captain!" he said.

Lowwe yawned and looked at the now orange horizon. "That was fast, Gregsbi... Good job. Did you manage find what I asked you to find?"

Gregsbi relaxed his body and suddenly became more serious than I had ever seen him thus far. He took the flag, dropped it onto the rooftop, and sat down on it like a cushion. His eyebrows frowned and his hands gestured his experience as he spoke, "Everything went very smoothly up to a point. I took Wallace back to his ship. I knocked out all of the crew. I took down the flag, and I unfurled the sails for take off. But then I remembered your orders, captain. You said: 'don't forget the original purpose of our mission here.' I realized that I wasn't done. I still had to find something else. I searched and searched and searched..."

Lowwe squinted at Gregsbi. "And...?" He asked.

"It took me forever, but I found 'it.' " Gregsbi reached into his pocket and pulled out something that looked like a leather bracelet. I eyed it very carefully and I noticed that the band of leather had a glass sphere connected to its end. There was no way that someone like me--someone who had lived on the Grand Line for their entire life--would not be able to recognize what it was.

"That's a Log Pose!" I exclaimed.

"Yes it is..." Lowwe said with a sigh, "but it's partially broken."

"Captain, I'm sorry," Gregsbi said lowering his head in shame." I thought that everyone on board was down, but one guy hid below deck. When he saw me searching through the navigation equipment, he took the Log and tried to destroy it. Before I even realized what he had done it was too late. He already did some damage to it. I guess he figured that he would rather destroy the Log than give it to an enemy."

Lowwe turned it over and over in his hands. "That certainly is very unfortunate, but you shouldn't sulk about it. This just means that--"

"My uncle can probably fix that, Lowwe," I jumped in. "I just learned today that he was a pirate way back when he was young. He's pretty handy. You should let him have a look at it."

Gregsbi brightened up all of the sudden.

Lowwe nodded. "He was a pirate, huh? I guess that's not a bad idea."

"Yes!" Gregsbi cheered. "Then there's still hope!! We might able to navigate now!!"

Gregsbi's words bounced around in my head for moment before I caught an inconsistency. There was no way he just said that.

"Wait a minute..." I asked, "what do you mean 'we might be able to navigate now?' Are you saying that you didn't have a Log Pose?! Is that even possible?! This is at least the third island on this track through the Grand Line!"

"It may seem bizarre," Lowwe said, "but we are a fairly new pirate crew. Our ship has waved a pirate flag for less than half a year, and Gregsbi only joined us about a month and a half ago. In fact, we haven't even been on the Grand Line for more than a month. This is just our second island after the entry point."

"But to get here without a Log...?! Not only that, you managed to get to two islands!!"

I was dead shocked. Everybody knew that normal navigational equipment was useless on the Grand Line. The only reliable tool--the only truth teller in a busy sea of liars--was the Log Pose. Unfathomably, the man before me was telling me that his crew was sailing without one.

"Yes, we haven't had a Log. When we first landed at this island and discovered that Wallace was here as well, we decided to make it our objective to steal his Log Pose. Whether we needed to do it through stealth or force, we weren't going to leave this place without the Log."

"But you haven't answered me!? What the hell got you here?! People who don't have a Log on the Grand Line can end up wandering the seas for years and years without seeing a damn thing. Do you know how astronomical the odds are that you would find two islands within one month!! That's like looking for a pond in the middle of the dessert while being blind!!"

"Turning," Lowwe said smiling, "You're just going to have to start opening up that mind of yours, aren't you? I realize that we have been very fortunate to have been sailing as rashly as we have, and that is why we made it our priority to retrieve this Log right here and now. If you want an answer for what got us here in one piece..." Lowwe trailed off in search for his answer.

"What?" I urged him forward, "What got you here?"

And then he ended the conversation with one word.

"Luck," he said.

That was that.

Gregsbi hopped up to his feet. "Welcome to the crew," he said.

These guys sure knew how to shock me into submission. Before I knew it, Gregsbi and Lowwe were already making their way back down from the roof. I shook the daze from my brain and quickly followed.

Before we came back into the room where Sender was healing Uncle, Lowwe turned to me and said, "Turning, we're not going to mention the fact that you've joined right now. That's something you need to do on your own. We're going to talk with your uncle about fixing the Log, and then we'll head to our ship for the night. Tomorrow morning, Sender will stop by to lead you to the ship. From that point on..." Lowwe clapped me on the shoulder, "you're a pirate."

"One more thing," Gregsbi said digging around in his pockets, "Captain told me a little bit about you before I started watching your fight with Wallace. When I ran by the place where you all fought, I saw something on the ground that reminded me of you."

From his pocket, Gregsbi pulled out a black tube made of wood. It was my hand-made scope. I gasped and checked my own pockets to confirm its absence before accepting it from his hands. I examined every inch of it carefully and saw that it was completely unscathed save for a small scratch on the tube exterior. At some point during the fight, it must have fallen from my pocket and kicked away from the battle.

"Thanks a lot, Gregsbi," I said tucking it tightly into my belt, "I owe you one."

"No problem," Gregsbi said. "Oh, and this is yours too."

He removed my rifle from his back and placed it in my hands. The weight of the gun balanced into my palms. Somehow, I felt like I was being reunited with a long lost ally.

"I appreciate it," I said with a deep sigh. It was comforting to see that everything had turned out okay. I had fought and survived a battle with a pirate worth 47 million beri. Just a single day before, I would have said that it was impossible.

Lowwe grinned and opened the door to Uncle's room.

Sender was leaning against a wall opposite to the bed with his arms crossed and his eyes closed. He had taken off his jacket, and his dusty grey t-shirt was as cool and solid as his demeanor. Now that his jacket was off, I could see that the bandages that I thought were only wrapped around his hand and wrist actually worked their way up the length of his arm. The right sleeve of his shirt was rolled back to his shoulder to reveal the intricately weaved pattern of the medicinal fabric.

It was an odd scene to say the least. My uncle had recovered and he looked as good as ever, but he sat in almost perfect silence staring off at the floor. I rushed over and knelt down next to him.

"Uncle," I said, "is something wrong?! Are you okay?!"

My uncle broke his gaze from the floor and slowly his eyes began to focus on my face.

"So..." he said, "you want... you want..."

I could barely understand him. "I want what?" I asked.

"You want..." Uncle said looking into my eyes. The dim haze of daydream was lifting from his pupils. Suddenly, without warning, he balled his hand into a fist and swiftly dropped it onto the crown of my skull. "YOU LITTLE INGRATE! JUST BECAUSE I SAID I WAS A PIRATE DOESN'T MEAN YOU HAVE TO RUN AND JOIN A CREW!!"

Amid my yelp of pain and the throbbing in my ears, I heard Lowwe laugh and say jokingly, "Hey, Sender. You weren't supposed to say anything about Turning joining."

Gregsbi was laughing so hard that he nearly collapsed onto the floor.

Sender grinned. It was the first time I saw him smile. "You know me better than that, Lowwe. If the conversation leads into that area, I'm not going to beat around the bush. After I finished fixing him up, he was naturally curious about us and our journey. I must have let it slip that you were interested in Turning as a crewman."

"Well," Lowwe said, "there's no use in hiding it." Lowwe turned to my uncle. "Sir, we were going to let Turning break the news to you himself. I apologize that it turned out this way, but--"

By the time Lowwe started talking, Uncle had already jumped from the bed and placed me in a headlock.

"Don't worry about it," Uncle said as I wriggled to get free from his grasp, "Just give me a couple of moments to discipline my dear nephew here, and then I'll be just fine."

Much to my dismay, Lowwe nodded with a smile and took a place next to Gregsbi howling in laughter at Uncle's disciplinary techniques.


	8. Arc I:End: A Sea of Monsters

In the morning, I awoke full of energy. I immediately set to work packing a few bags for my journey. One I filled with clothes and a few books that I thought might be useful. Among those books were some physics texts that I had used to learn about projectile motion for my marksmanship and one or two outdoor survival guides that I had picked up when I was younger. Another bag was a smaller rucksack that I filled with boxes of ammunition, some general use tools, and my handmade scope.

Lowwe, Gregsbi, and Sender took off after handing the Log Pose over to Uncle. He examined it just a few moments before he decided that he really could fix it. After they left, Uncle locked himself inside of his room and set to work. I guess that he wanted to do his best to pay Lowwe back for everything he had done. As I was filling my bags with essentials, Uncle walked into my room and suddenly collapsed down onto my bed. It was clear that he had been up all night working on the Log.

"Turning," he said closing his eyes and shifting into a comfortable sleeping position, "I think its time we talked about what's going to happen."

I looked up from my bags and scanned Uncle's exhausted form. In more ways than one, I was dreading this moment. Uncle wished the best for me--I knew that for a fact--but I doubt that he had considered that I would choose a path that so closely resembled his own. Even if he did consider it, he probably wouldn't have wanted it.

"Uncle," I said, "Remember that dream you told me about? You said that you had a wife once, but she died. If you were so busy sailing the seas as a pirate and then staying here on this island to raise me, when did you have the time to get married?" I had never asked him about his wife before. I knew that dream--that dream of love and bonds--but I did not know the man as well as I had thought.

Uncle sighed. "Believe it or not, there was a time even before the days in which I sailed as a pirate. I was much younger then--just a few years older than you, in fact. Your father and I were simple little idiots who loved to laugh and joke and enjoy every little thing around us. Something clicked inside me faster than your father, though."

A smile surfaced onto his face. It was an easy smile that was as fractured as it was whole. There was a bizarre quality to it that read of both satisfaction and pain.

"As soon as I saw her," he continued, " I knew that I would need to look nowhere else for love. There was no question at all within my mind. Your dad used to laugh at me about it. He used to say that I was insane. It must have been a slap in the face for him when he discovered that I had actually proposed."

Uncle paused to chuckle at some echoing image of my father that drifted by completely invisible to me.

"Those times were too short. They were quite possibly the happiest I've been in my life. I still remember the little things about her like the way her shoulder grazed against mine, or the way our foreheads bumped when we slept in each other's arms. I wish I could have those back, Turning. I miss them so much."

The notes of Uncle's voice where becoming more and more troubled. As it was happening, I was beginning to wrap my head around the fact that I had been ignorant of this man's history all of my life. Why had I never asked him before? How could I have been so absent minded? As those question started to juggle around in my head, I realized that there was dead sound in the room. Uncle had become silent.

"What happened?" I asked.

"There's a reason that I never told you about this. It's hard for me to look back. If I consider on that past for too long, I'll lose myself to it. I can only try to put this as simply as I can." Uncle paused to take a deep breath for air and for strength. "She died from a disease. She became very ill just about 9 months after we got married," he said. "There are no fireworks here. I had to sit back and just watch her die slowly as one person after another failed to help her. What could I say, though? I couldn't do anything either. I was completely helpless. She died on a Tuesday, and when it happened I felt that God himself had cast his hand to the earth just to steal her away from me. My obsession with it all was like a sickness in and of itself. I might have rotted in my own filth if your father hadn't dragged me along with him on a trip into another country.

"Destiny or Fate or whatever must have cast its magic again because the demon life of piracy was thrown into our laps during that very same excursion. Even though I was not the same after she died, I had something to distract me. As a pirate, I could only think in the moment. Dwelling on the past would only mean my death. Seriously, it was a thrill unlike any other.

"One day during our travels, we stopped at an old famous gathering point where many pirates came together to tell stories, demand one-on-one duels, or just kick back and throw down booze. It was at this place that I heard the story of the 'Eternal Grape Vine.' I was never one to believe in magic, Turning, but this story rang to me. As soon as I heard it, I though of her." Uncle was approaching familiar territory for me. I had heard him talk about that grape vine and the mythic wall on which it grew for years and years.

He continued, "As soon as I could, I asked for more details. The grapes of the vine were rumored to possess a magical quality that could preserve any one aspect of life for all eternity. Furthermore, a wine made from those grapes was said to preserve the most holy and precious of all bonds... the bond of love. I knew exactly what I wanted to do from that point on. The vine, I was told, was somewhere in the Grand Line. So, I decided in that very moment that the Grand Line was where I needed to be as well.

"Our entire crew wasn't up for the journey, however. Our captain wanted to go, but some of the men defected because of fear. The legends of the Grand Line reach all corners of the world. We had heard terrible things about the place. Still, half of the crew remained--the stronger half--and we set sail.

"You know the rest already... We didn't get very far. When your father decided to leave the crew and stay on this island, I didn't argue with him at all. I knew that he had found the same kind of love that I had found several years before. In truth, I was happy for him. I couldn't do the same, though. I had a dream, and I needed to be on the Grand Line to grasp it. Shortly after we left your father behind, we ran into that side-swiping current and before we knew it, we were in the Calm Belt with sea kings snapping their enormous jaws at our ship's hull. Once again, there was nothing I could do. Our ship was destroyed and the crew fell to the ocean's depths... I was the only one who made it.

"So you see, Turning... when I came back here and found you by yourself--when I discovered that your parents were taken away by the World Government--I couldn't help but look at you and see my life's purpose. I still have my dream, and I've probably told it to you thousands of times, but I gave up grasping for it. Everything I've been through in life cannot be a coincidence... I honestly believe that you will do something greater than me or your father could have ever done. I'm only here because of you..."

Uncle opened his eyes and raised his head briefly to look at me. He then closed them and settled back down onto the pillow.

"But you're still a little punk," he added.

I smiled at his words. It didn't seem like the thought of stopping me had ever once crossed into his mind.

I looked around the room. My bags were packed, my heart was racing, and now it was time to say goodbye.

"Uncle," I said, "I have to go, but I think I'll do something right now to thank you for everything you've done for me..."

Uncle chuckled. "And what might that be?" he asked.

"I have my own goals. I've decided to find my parents on the Grand Line. That's my dream now. Still, I think I can carry more than one dream on my shoulders while I'm away. I think I'll take your dream with me too. Lowwe will guide us deep into this sea, and I'll keep my ears open to every small corner of it. If I find your mythic wall, and I see a grape vine that glows eerily of magic hugging its surface, I'll get you that wine. I'll bring it here right to this door, and I'll say, 'I found it.' What do you say to that?"

A silence elapsed between us in which Uncle shifted onto his side so that his back faced me and the exit.

"Do what you want," he said yawning, "just don't let the door hit you on your way out. The Log is on the counter of the bar. Take the book sitting underneath it too."

I smiled. That was it. I picked up both bags and headed for the door. Before I left, I looked back and said, "Thanks, old man."

As I walked down the hall I heard the slightest whisper crawl along the walls. "Stop calling me that you little idiot," it said. I smiled wider than ever.

When I got downstairs, I grabbed the Log and tied the leather band around my wrist. I wanted to be careful not to break it, so that was the best spot I could place it for the time being. I then picked up the book Uncle had left underneath it. It was a thick journal that was full of entries with two different handwritings. After scanning through a few pages I realized that it was a journal that belong to both my father and Uncle during their days as pirates. I carefully packed it away into my rucksack. I knew that that book was probably going to prove itself invaluable during my journey.

As I fixed my bag closed, I heard a tap at the main door. I walked over and opened it to see Sender standing before me with his black jacket loosely flapping in a morning breeze. The sky was grey, yet the air was clear and fresh.

"You ready," he asked.

I took a deep breath, adjusted my bags, and shut the door behind me. "Let's go," I said.

We trekked through to the edge of town until there was just a forest standing between us and the 'Dos Os.' I took one last reflective look behind me before jumping into the bushes in pursuit of Sender.

"Here I am, the son of a pirate, about to step into a sea that has destroyed millions of men ten times stronger before me... I must be out of my mind," I said.

A smile flashed across Sender's face, "No more so than any of your other nakama."

"You're probably right," I replied, "You guys sure are weird... but I guess I'm just as weird seeing as how I've joined up. Lowwe is probably the strangest man I've ever met."

"Hmm..." Sender pondered openly. "It's interesting that you think something like that."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Don't you think that Lowwe is a little strange?"

"Yes, I certainly do think he's strange," Sender responded, "but that's not what I meant. I meant that it's interesting that you still think of Lowwe as a man."

I frowned. "That doesn't make any sense, Sender. If he's not a man, then is he a woman?" Even though I wasn't being serious an image conjured in my mind that almost made me shutter. I even laughed at myself for suggesting something so ridiculous.

Sender, on the other hand, was completely serious. He looked sternly into the forest ahead and spoke, "The day will soon come when you realize that the one you call captain is actually a very dangerous being. Lowwe Lemming is no man. He is a monster. He eats fire, bathes in blood, and crushes anyone and anything that stands in his way. But here's the thing... the Grand Line is a sea that is absolutely full of monsters, and only a monster can beat a monster. So, in the end, we're lucky to have such a beast on our side. Yes, Lowwe is certainly strange, but to say that he belongs to the same family of humanity to which you and I belong is a falsehood indeed."

I listened intently to Sender's words, but I can honestly say that I thought he was exaggerating. I figured he was just trying to scare me because I was new. Little did I know that every word and action that issued forth from Sender was in fact geared to be as serious as possible.

Still, I was curious about Lowwe, so I steadily asked, "How powerful is Lowwe? What kind of strength does he have?"

Sender smiled. "Well, I'm not supposed to talk about this too much because Gregsbi and I have a little bet going about you."

"Really?"

"Yep. Our bet is pretty straightforward. We've basically bet on whether or not you'll be able to figure out Lowwe's power without him having to demonstrate it to you first hand. Now, I can't say a whole bunch about this, but I'll give you one hint: Lowwe is a Devil Fruit user."

"That's pretty broad," I said.

"Yeah, well I'd be cheating if I told you anymore. If you ask around and learn about your nakama, you should be able to figure it out. Our crew is small, and it totals to only five members including you--Oh crap!"

Sender suddenly stopped walking and turned to face me.

"Listen. We're almost to the ship, but we need to take a second from traveling. I forgot to tell you something of extreme importance. You know Gregsbi, Lowwe, and me, but you haven't yet met the last member of our crew. Heed my words... be very careful when you are around this person. Remember how I said that Lowwe is monster... well, it just so happens that there is another monster onboard as well. This is Lowwe's first crew mate we're talking about. Don't expect a formal introduction or anything, and I'd suggest that you don't even make direct eye contact either. The first few weeks on the ship you're going to have to be practically invisible. If you're not, you might get killed."

"What?" I said laughing, "Are you kidding with me?"

Sender's face stole the laughter right from my gut. "This is no game, Turning. This is a matter of life and death. If you don't take this seriously, you WILL die. You have to be very careful from here on out."

"This is crazy," I said. "Would this guy really kill one of his own companions?!"

"I have a better question for you," Sender replied, "would you really like to be the one who finds out?"

What could I say? I opened and shut my mouth as Sender stared into my face. Sooner than later, I accepted it. I just nodded curtly. "I understand," I said.

Sender took a deep breath. "Don't worry. Being aboard this ship is going to be a little hard at first, but the time will soon come when you realize that you have a very important role to play. Lowwe picks his crew members carefully, and he knows that there will probably be a day when his life rests in your hands. More importantly, he knows that you will do your best to protect it and to succeed. In the meantime, I suggest that you do your best to get to know the ship. Gregsbi is an interesting character with a wild past, and I'd be happy to share some stories with you as well. Just keep in mind that you have to take care around the captain and the first mate."

"Wait... I already got that Lowwe's first mate is insane, but why do I have to take care around Lowwe also?"

"I already told you," Sender said, "their both monsters."

With that, Sender moved forward. I hastened my step to follow along, and we continued in silence. We crossed a threshold of bushes when suddenly I felt a heartbeat of life pulse into my face from the direction in which we hiked. It was the same feeling I had when I gazed at Lowwe's pirate ship from the rooftop of my home. It felt like the ship had a breath and a presence. Truly, it felt as if it were alive. The feeling got stronger and stronger until we reached a clearing that struck from a small cove connected to the Grand Line. That was when I saw the 'Dos Os' for the first time.

It wasn't huge, but wasn't tiny either. A main mast rose from its center, and smaller sub mast jutted out closer to the stern. Both had black sails open, catching a breath of wind as it crept through the middle of the cove. Atop the main mast was a small crow's nest lookout. It's hull was dark brown and a silvery metal ran around the perimeter just below the deck. At the the bow, a sleepy unsmiling moon face made from carved wood looked out over the sea. The ship's wood was sleek and smooth. It was edged in a way that made me believe it could cut a wave in half. Just above the crow's nest, a back flag proudly waved. On it was a white skull that had been split into two halves. One half remained whole, while the other was shattered into pieces.

It was a vessel that I would be proud to call my home. I could have watched it sail like that for days.

My internally sparkling awe, however, was interrupted by Sender as he muttered, "That idiot... what in the hell does he think he's doing?"

Lowwe's voice suddenly rang through the cove. "Hey, Turning!" he said, "How do you like the ship?!"

I stole a brief glance at Sender before yelling back, "She's beautiful!"

"Lowwe," Sender yelled, "Why the hell did you take off?! You couldn't have waited five more minutes?"

"What's the problem?!" Lowwe snapped back, "You can get on easy. You better hurry before we leave the cove, though!"

"What about Turning!? He doesn't have a Chikara Chikara fruit like me, you idiot!!"

Lowwe didn't respond for a few empty seconds before he yelled, "I forgot!"

Sender slapped his own forehead in disgust, and I nearly collapsed from shock.

"That's your new captain," Sender said.

Lowwe's voice pushed through the cove again, "I know!" he said. "Throw him!"

I wasn't sure if I had heard him right. The boat was in the middle of the cove at least two hundred yards away. I looked at Sender, who was openly smiling at me.

"What did Lowwe say?" I asked cautiously.

Sender took one step closer to me and grabbed my shoulders. "Make sure you hold onto your bags tightly," he said.

"Wha--" but before I could even ask, a great force issued from Sender's hands and the world spun around twice before I found myself hurdling through air and over water. I gripped my bags as tightly as possible and screamed the whole way. The wind rushed by quickly and each brief instant I opened my eyes, I saw the ship get closer and closer. Then suddenly, like a great hand of saving grace, I was caught by the black sail of the ship. My body rolled down the soft fabric until I landed like a heavy sack of bones on the wooden deck.

I gasped deeply for air and sat up shaking. "Everyone on this ship is insane," I said aloud.

"Shut your mouth," an unfamiliar voice filled my ears. Somehow, that voice made me feel as if a cube of ice were trailing down my spine.

I hadn't noticed it, but a pair of silky bare feet were standing right before me. I followed the feet up until they became ankles, calfs and then... a white skirt. I would have continued upward until the same voice said, "Stop right there."

I froze. I had no idea that the one Sender had told me about was a woman.

"If I hear you call the people on this ship 'insane' ever again, I'll kill you. I am the only one who gets that privilege. Do you understand?"

I nodded, making sure I kept my eyes to her feet.

"Good," she said. The feet then rotated and slapped against the wood to a different part of the ship.

While her back was turned, I raised my head to look. She was about the same age as everyone else... early twenties or late teens. She wore a midnight blue top with thin straps. Her skirt was loose and comfortable and it spanned down just below her knees. Her hair was a dark copper color that grazed her shoulders.

She didn't look rugged or strong at all. In fact, she almost seemed dainty. She walked with her fists balled and her eyebrows notched into a frown. Even though she seemed like a normal girl on the surface, there was an unnatural intimidation that seemed to ebb from her tanned pale skin. I don't know what it was, but I feared her immediately. Even the fact that she was beautiful was lost on me. I was just too scared.

Gregsbi kneeled down next to me. "Wow," he said, "She must think you're all right. When I first met her, she tried to crush my skull."

I laughed. "What's her name?"

"She'll introduce herself eventually... when she feels like she trusts you."

"Scary..."

"You have no idea... Anyway, welcome aboard. Is there anything I can help you with? The quarters are below deck."

"Thanks," I said, "but I'll wait for a second before I put everything away. Where's Sender?"

"What're you taking about," Gregsbi said frowning, "Sender is right there."

Gregsbi pointed, and I followed his finger to see Sender sitting across from me on the deck.

"What?! How'd you get here?" I asked.

"I have ways of getting around," Sender said. The matter, for him, was closed. I, of course, was completely confused.

I knew right then that getting to know everyone was really going to be an important task--just like Sender had said. I didn't want to straggle behind, and it seemed clear that a crucial part of clearing up my confusion was to learn about my nakama.

Before I could push for more immediate answers, however, Lowwe stepped before me and put his arm on my shoulder. I forgot my new task for the moment and let him guide me. He walked me to the front of the ship and pointed out to the ocean before us. The sun was rising higher, and the sea glistened with the glitter of yellow light. The air was fresh and the sounds were pure.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"Well..." I paused, "I think I'm nuts. But I wouldn't have it any other way."

END OF ARC I


	9. Arc 2:Start: The Titans

**NOTE:**

**This is the second Arc of the story narrated by Turning Arcshaw about his transformation from Grand Line resident to Grand Line pirate. In the first Arc, Turning recalls his life working for his uncle in a small bar and the daily turmoil that visiting pirates set upon his hometown. He grew up learning the art of marksmanship and engineered himself into a phenomenal shooter over the course of his brief yet dense eighteen years. One day, Turning meets a pirate named Lowwe Lemming who goes on to change the very way he sees world. After a struggle with a powerful pirate known as "Whirlwind" Wallace, wherein Turning is rescued by Lowwe's jovial comrade Gregsbi, Lowwe invites Turning to be a member of his crew. Turning decides to accept the offer and set sail in search of his parents who, as his uncle reveals to him, were taken away by the marines on charges of piracy. Turning then makes a promise to help the biggest dream of his uncle, a former pirate himself, come true.**

**And so, Turning leaves his hometown and follows Lowwe out to sea. Here follows the continuation...**

The world seems different aboard a pirate ship. The waves crash louder, the air smells sweet, and the world seems wide open to every whim and desire that a person could dream.

I had only spent a few days aboard the pirate ship 'Dos Os' before I found a solid place among my new crew mates. Because I had worked in the bar with my uncle for so many years serving drinks and fixing meals, I was dubbed the ship's "temporary and possibly permanent" cook. I was far from a good cook, but at least I knew more about nutrition and food preparation than anyone else on board. Before I took over the task, the crew was alternating the job in a kind of cooking-by-committee fashion. After I tasted one of Gregsbi's attempts at making pancakes for breakfast, I gladly volunteered.

The cooking post kept me pretty busy. Every day I would get up early to start making the food, and every night I would go to bed late after cleaning everything up. I was never the only one awake, however. In the mornings, Gregsbi would regularly get up before anyone else and don his work gloves, Seastone tipped boots, and a heavy duty tool belt for maintenance on the ship. Even though I had seen him wear everything except for the tool belt, I would have never guessed that he was a shipwright.

And not only was he a shipwright, he was a damned good shipwright. Some days I would watch the way he sanded and hammered away in order to keep the 'Dos Os' in such fine shape and I would drop my jaw in awe. There were even certain moments when he would treat the injuries suffered by the ship as though he were operating on human flesh. Gregsbi's efforts would last from morning until midday when he would train his body for speed or hand-to-hand combat. His day was always rigorous, and there was very little downtime in-between his moments of intensity. Still, Gregsbi wholeheartedly enjoyed his endeavors and would always laugh and grin with everything.

At night, before I would go to sleep, I would often see Sender reading under a lamp. Most of his day he spent reading or sitting in meditation. Sender's discipline and wisdom were truly amazing for someone his age. The more I watched him, in fact, the more I became convinced that there was really no way he could be in his mid-twenties. He was a cultured library about the Grand Line, and the kind of information that he discussed and contemplated was a stream of thought far beyond a man of his years.

Sender took over the navigational duties now that the crew had access to my uncle's Log Pose. He assured that he was not a professional navigator, but he could take a temporary position and do his best to guide us where we wanted to be. He refused to wear my uncle's Log on his wrist, so we kept it on a hook inside of the dining room so that anyone could have quick access to it.

Lowwe's first mate, whose name I still did not know, was an anomaly all to her own. Anytime she sat to eat a meal with everyone else, she remained in absolute silence. The only time she spoke was to threaten me or Gregsbi with death. Sometimes she would stand up in the crow's nest late at night, and she would still be there standing in the same way during the morning.

One day, I woke up and I felt the ship rocking side-to-side in an awkward manner. When I went up to see what it was, I saw her standing on the side railing of the deck looking out to sea. She brought her fist back slowly and held it for about ten seconds. She then muttered something to herself before unleashing a punch into the air that was so furious that the ship jarred and the sea standing before her feet nearly broke in two. The waves ahead of her crashed away as if they had been cut by a giant's sword. I could even feel the wind break from her blow and push me back against the ship's wood. When she noticed my presence, she stepped down in her bare feet and looked at me in the eye. If I was skeptical about her strength before, all of my doubts were erased. Sender was right, she was truly a monster. I nearly crapped my pants when she looked at me with that dark copper hair waving in the wind she had created with her strike.

When she turned away and walked from my vision, part of me knew that she was beginning to accept me as a crew member. I knew this for two reasons and two reasons only. First, she had looked me in the eye. And second, I was not dead.

The more I observed everyone, the more I recognized that Lowwe was the glue that held each of these unique personalities together. He would talk seriously with Sender in one moment, joke with Gregsbi in another, and then sit in silence with the first mate in the next. It seemed as if he could be everywhere or nowhere at any instant. Sometimes he would go below deck and study a map or the world news that the bird couriers delivered to us daily. When that happened, I wouldn't see him for hours and hours.

Whenever I talked with him, he always seemed as if he had just rolled out of bed. One afternoon, a few days after we left my hometown, he walked up to me as I was using my rifle to shoot some practice rounds over the side of the ship. He leaned against the wood and sleepily asked, "So, how's everything been going? Are you convinced about our insanity now?"

I took the gun from my sight and smiled to the breeze. "I love it, Lowwe. I don't feel like a new crew member. I feel like I've been here for years. I'm still scared of your first mate, though. I wish you would have told me about her earlier."

Lowwe laughed and then looked into the sea. "Yeah," he said, "she's a little more unique than everyone else, but each of us has a separate quality to our life that is distinguishing. Sooner than later, you'll understand her a bit more."

"I hope so," I said. "The other day I saw her training... her punches can make waves...! I've never seen anything like that."

"Yeah," Lowwe said with a yawn, "Of all the people on this ship, she is the strongest. The others stand out as well. Like Gregsbi... Gregsbi is by far the most skilled fighter. And Sender, hands down, is the most intelligent. You've already proven yourself to be one of the most resourceful... I had no idea you could cook too!"

"It's really no problem," I said simply. Each of these pirates were superhuman in some way. Everyone had a devil fruit except for Gregsbi and even he had speed and skill that was unnatural. I felt like a small child in a forest of mighty titans.

I think Lowwe sensed my inner degradation because he clapped me on the back and instructed me to follow him below deck. We dropped down into the bowels of the ship and walked through a narrow hall to a room that I was told before was called the "concentration" room. I remember Gregsbi instructing me that it was the place to go if you needed to work on something by yourself. It was decently sized, probably the second biggest room on the ship next to the dining room, and it smelled of healthy wood. Inside, a mixture of things lined the walls ranging from desks to bookshelves to a rack of workshop tools and then to an assortment of training weights for strength. Some of those weights were so heavy that I couldn't even fathom how they didn't break through the floor wood and crash straight through to the ocean. Lowwe walked over to the desk and pointed to the wall that it faced. Aside from a small circular porthole, the wall was covered with about thirty or more bounty posters almost every one with numbers so large that they made "Whirlwind" Wallace, the 47 million beri man, look insignificant.

"I look at this wall everyday," Lowwe said, "and I tell myself that this is what we're up against. No matter what, I know that some of the names and faces on this wall will always be superior to me. I can never hope to surpass them. But it doesn't matter... I'll fight them anyway if it comes to it. That's the life I chose. A pirate who reaches high will have to do the impossible." He smiled to the air before saying, "I think I'm up for it."

I could see where he was coming from. The weight on his shoulders was just as heavy as mine if not even more so. He was walking into a sea where these fierce people awaited. He was walking into it as their enemy if they stepped in his way. And here I was, afraid of the people whom I called nakama. I felt slightly ashamed at my selfishness.

"You're right," I said somberly. I scanned the wall a bit more. As my eyes traced each face, I couldn't help but notice that one poster was placed slightly higher than all the rest. I got closer to get a better look at who it was. On the brown paper was a young guy maybe my age or maybe a bit younger. He was grinning ear to ear and on his head was an old dusty straw hat.

"Who's this?" I pointed out for Lowwe.

He didn't even look at the picture before saying, "I've never met him, but when I saw his bounty poster for the first time something within me clicked. If you ever meet that man, I suggest that you run."

"Why?" I asked.

Lowwe yawned again and started toward the door. On his face was a lighthearted smile. He tapped the wood of the archway lightly and stopped.

"That is the man who will become the Pirate King," he said.

At his side, Lowwe's silvery foil rested in his belt of rope. He adjusted it softly, turned, and walked away.


	10. Arc 2:Part 2: Gregsbi's Choice

I decided that it was time to be aggressive. In a about a week, Sender was expecting an island to show, and before that time I wanted to be as well acquainted with everyone on board as possible. I knew that I wasn't exactly going to get a life's story out of them all, but I reasoned that I could at least get some answers to a couple of questions.

I figured that I would start with Gregsbi. Not only did I know him pretty well already, but he seemed more open and easily accessible than everyone else. As soon as I found him relaxing in a moment of downtime after his ship maintenance and training were finished, I approached him.

"Would you mind if we talked for a little bit?" I asked.

Gregsbi grinned widely and sat up. "Yes."

I was stunned. Gregsbi didn't want to talk.

"Oh, wait..." he said shaking his head and laughing, "I mean no. I always forget you have to answer those 'do you mind' questions oppositely. What's on your mind, Turning?"

"Gregsbi," I started after slapping myself in the forehead with an open palm, "when did you join this crew?"

"Almost two months ago," he said. "Just before we started the Grand Line. I grew up in the largest town of a small island called Weathermy. Occasionally, pirates stop at our island before going on to Roguetown and the entrance to the Grand Line. If they aren't tough, they don't get past Weathermy, though."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"On Weathermy," he spoke grinning to the open sea, "everyone is a great fighter. There are gangs all over the place and they constantly fight each other for territory over the island. Some pirates get caught up in the mix and if they can't fight well, the gangs tear them apart."

"Geez, that sounds pretty violent..." I said a little taken aback. I was imagining an island with a civil war happening every single day.

"Well," Gregsbi replied, "it works out in a strange way. You see... the gangs tend to leave the innocents and the local businesses out of the picture. Also, every fight is handled without the use of weapons. The only thing anyone fights with are their own two hands. There are never any deaths. All in all, the system has its own sort of honor code. Even the worst gang members abide by it. On the other hand, the pirates violate that code all of the time, so the gangs sometimes unite to kick them off of the island."

"Hmm... That does work out strangely... But a lot of pirates have Devil Fruit powers, don't they? How could an island full of people who only use hand-to-hand combat beat a pirate with a really strong fruit?" I wondered aloud.

Gregsbi smiled so that his Seastone canine sparkled. "You already forgot about this, didn't you...?" Gregsbi said pointing to his tooth. "The gangs on Weathermy use their connections to bribe the Marines for lots and lots of Seastone. Over the years they've developed their own systems for fashioning Seastone into different shapes so that they could be used as devices to nullify fruit powers. My tooth and my boots are just a small taste of their overall creativity." Gregsbi nodded twice and threw a fist into the air. "Man, it was great! I loved it there!" He shouted.

"Wow," I sputtered startled from his sudden exclamation. "It does sound pretty interesting..." For a second, I tried to think of Gregsbi as a gang member. I was about to ask him if he was a part of the gangs, but his outburst made me say, "You must have really loved that place. What made you decide to leave?"

Gregsbi relaxed his arms. His gaze softened and his voice drifted into a range that sounded more serious. "My mother," he said, "was from the Grand Line. She was strong and she knew more about carpentry than anyone else on the island. I spent many hours working for her in our shop back at home, and she would always tell me stories about the island where she was born. You've probably heard of it... it's called Water Seven."

"She was born there?!" I yelled in shock. Anyone who knew the Grand Line would say that Water Seven was famous for its huge shipwright companies. The greatest carpenters in the world all had links to Water Seven. No questions about it.

"Yup," Gregsbi grinned. "She was very important to me."

"What happened to her?"

Gregsbi turned to the sea again. "About three years ago, her time came..." he said. "It was really as simple as that. She wasn't that old or sick or anything... She just died peacefully. No one could explain it. It may sound sad, but she told me just before she died that she had finished her life's work. She told me that I was exactly how she had always dreamed and that I could guide myself. After it happened, I didn't even cry or feel the slightest bit upset because I knew that she was satisfied. She told me to live every second as if it were my last. I've tried to take that to heart. Every moment I'm alive, I'm thankful. I'd like to be able to leave life just like her... completely satisfied."

We sat in a sudden silence as Gregsbi watched the blue. I thought of what it would be like to live an absolutely satisfactory life. I doubted that I could do it. It just seemed like there was too much to do. Gregsbi's mother must have been an astounding person... bold, fearless and noble to the very last.

"To answer your question," Gregsbi continued, "a lot of the people on Weathermy remain on the island for their entire lives. The gangs draw in a lot of residents and the overall atmosphere of the place creates a bond that is very hard to break. I knew that I wouldn't be able to live as my mother had done if I stayed behind like everyone else, so I took off. I promised myself that I would follow her feet, and I'm here today because of that oath." Gregsbi paused and took a deep breath.

"Also," he added grinning resolutely, "I'd follow Lowwe to the very ends of the earth."

I adjusted my seat and tightened my focus. There was much more to Gregsbi than I imagined. Now, I was even more curious as to how he had become a member of Lowwe's crew. "How did you meet Lowwe?" I asked.

Gregsbi suddenly stood up and bounced up and down on his toes. He threw some kicks into the air that were so fast that I couldn't even see his feet. "Lowwe came to my island in the middle of a huge gang battle for territory. Everybody was on edge at the time, so they automatically assumed that Lowwe was going to present a problem to the Weathermy. They all made it their business to take care of him as quickly as possible."

Gregsbi did a sudden backflip onto the rail of the ship and continued his kicks. Every once in a while he would mix in a combination of jabs and power punches. "Lowwe's crew is small right now, but back then he only had his first mate and Sender... When the gangs came to take him down, Lowwe ordered them both to stay on the ship no matter what. Right there at the port, with his only two crew mates watching, three united groups of gang members totaling to about twenty-five people beat him into the ground as hard as they could. Every time they knocked him down, he stood back up. It must have gone on for at least an hour, and he refused to throw a single punch the entire time. Honestly, I've never seen the first mate as angry as she was that day. She might have killed everyone there if Lowwe didn't command her to stay on the ship."

I sat in silence as Gregsbi moved along the rail. The images were processing through my mind. For some reason, I couldn't picture Lowwe being beaten down. It was as if he were invulnerable in my mind.

"After watching him, I was convinced that he meant no harm. I worked in the carpentry shop that my mother had established so I usually stayed out of gang affairs, but I couldn't understand why they didn't see that Lowwe had a practice of honor as well. There was only one thing I could do to get them to stop, so I rushed in and fought them myself. It was the first time in my life that I ever thought that a pirate could be a greater man than a resident of Weathermy."

"That's unbelievable..." I breathed.

"You have no idea. After I beat them all up and sent them on their way, Lowwe grabbed my shoulder and pointed at me before shouting up to Sender, 'I told you that we would find a nakama here!' It was pretty insane. After talking with him for a while I started to like him more and more. I was even more amazed when I found out that he did all that without using his devil fruit powers. The way he smiled and laughed was fearless. He reminded me of my how my mom used to grin at everything even if it was stacked against her. Honestly, it seemed as if Lowwe showed up at just the right time for me. I'd been trying to find ways to leave the island and explore the world ever since she died. It was a long three years. And then... Lowwe suddenly shows up on Weathermy from out of nowhere and gives me the answer. I kind of took it as a sign. Not a day later, I joined his crew for good."

Gregsbi jumped back down and sat again.

"Geez... It almost seems like it was meant to be... but what happened to the gangs? Didn't they come back to get revenge on you? And how did you even get strong enough to take on guys like those gang members and 'Whirlwind' Wallace?"

"Everybody on Weathermy is tough," Gregsbi said. "I already told you that. Those guys that I took down were lower on the food chain. I knew a lot of the gang members since I was a kid. I grew up with most of them, and I fought with them all the time. They trained a lot, but I trained more just so that I could beat them. For every ten stones they'd break, I'd break one hundred... For every minute they spent climbing the rock walls, I spent an hour... Still, I say the thing that made me truly strong was being around my mother. She was scary sometimes... No matter what, I'll always remember her punches hurting the most. Anyway, some of my childhood friends wound up being gang leaders, and I would still fight with them every so often just for fun. The only reason I have these Seastone things is because I knew so many of them. If I beat up one of their companions, then they would know that I did it for a good reason. All in all, even with all my training and hard work, I was only the third strongest on that island."

"Gregsbi," I said standing up. I was probably annoying him by now with all my questions. I figured that it was time to stop. I had a lot to think about already. "Remind me to avoid ever going to Weathermy," I said jokingly.

Gregsbi laughed out loud. "That's too bad," he said, "because I'll drag you myself if I have to!"

His face in the sunlight was still shining like a crescent moon of white teeth. Gregsbi's love of everything was contagious.

"You'll do it," I said. "I think you're going to look back on life and be completely happy. As long as you stay Gregsbi... I know you'll do it. I'm proud to be your nakama."

With that, I headed to the kitchen to start dinner. The whole time I thought about our conversation. Gregsbi certainly was an amazing fighter--I had already seen that for myself. But, I thought assuredly, he would always be terrible at making pancakes.


	11. Arc 2:Part 3: Wisdom Beyond Years

Two nights after I spoke with Gregsbi, Lowwe placed me on watch duty in the Crow's Nest atop the mast of the 'Dos Os'. We were almost certain that an island would show within the next five days. Lowwe didn't want anything creeping up on us unexpectedly, so every hour of everyday we all rotated turns keeping a lookout. Watch duty was usually not that intense on the open sea. With an island looming nearby, however, we had to keep a constant vigil.

Even so, I was caught off-guard by the assignment. That same night, Gregsbi got a little too excited when he discovered that I fixed some brown rice for dinner. He threw some kicks into the air and made a huge mess in the process. As a result, I had to clean everything up. Gregsbi tried to help, but he fell asleep before we were even halfway done. I was already very tired after finally finishing when Lowwe came to me and told me about my twilight Nest shift. There wasn't much I could say, so I just threw on a coat and climbed the rope ladder to my task.

I fell asleep almost right away. The night horizon and the dim reflection of the moon against the dark sea had a hypnotic effect on me. The ship rocked like a cradle and the cool wind barely whistled in my ears. The world, it seemed, demanded that I doze off the time.

I slept peacefully for a good while until I was awoken by a low hum resonating beneath the Crow's Nest. I peered over the edge of my seat to get a look. It was still night, but my eyes were almost fully adjusted to the near pitch black. I made out the the outline of the deck, and I checked over every segment for a sign of movement. I saw nothing. Resolutely, I dismissed the sound as my imagination.

I pushed myself back against the wood of the Nest. I pulled the collar of my coat higher and shivered with the breeze. The wind felt cooler than before. Slowly, I succumbed again to the persuasion of rest when a familiar voice startled me into alertness.

"I don't think that now is the best time to sleep, Turning."

I looked over at the rope ladder and saw Sender climb into the Nest. Calmly, he sat on the floor and crossed his legs to a pretzel. The hood of his black jacket was pulled over his head to a point where I couldn't see his eyes. He looked like a meditating monk on the boundary of achieving some form of enlightenment.

"You scared the hell out of me," I said sitting back up. "I heard a sound earlier, but I wouldn't have guessed it was you."

Sender looked up at me and removed his hood. "That sound wasn't me," he said.

"What--" I started, but Sender raised his hand to silence me.

"Listen," he said.

We sat quietly for a long time. I kept my eyes on Sender for the duration as he peered up into the dark sky. Then, out of nowhere, the same low hum from before came from below and filled my ears. It sounded like a creature of the sea. It could have been a whale or even a Sea King, but I couldn't be certain either way.

"What is that?" I asked Sender.

Sender took a deep breath and exhaled a cloud of mist into the air.

"That," he said, "is the 'Dos Os'."

I looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" I questioned.

Sender smiled. "Have you ever looked at this ship and felt something odd? Have you ever faced in it's direction expecting to see a person, when instead you just see wood?"

I thought back into my recent memory. Before long, I remembered. There were two moments. The first time was when Lowwe pointed out the 'Dos Os' to me on the rooftop of my home. It felt like there was a living presence beyond the forest where the ship was docked. And then I remembered when I was walking through the forest with Sender just after leaving my hometown. On our way to the ship, there was a pulse of life ahead us that I could feel but not see.

"I have..." I uttered in a whisper. "Twice before I felt it... But what does that mean...? This ship really can't be alive can it...?"

Sender's mile grew wider. "You've seen Gregsbi too, right...? He is a shipwright, but the work he does is not always carpentry."

I didn't even have to think very hard into what I had seen on the 'Dos Os' to know that Sender was right. Gregsbi did maintenance everyday, and every once in a while he would do something to the ship that made him seem more like a doctor than a shipwright.

"The waters of the Grand Line are harsh," Sender said, "and a normal ship built like this would not have survived this journey. There have been plenty of pirates on this sea that trade their old vessels for new ones. This ship, however, is different... It can heal its injuries just as you and I can heal ours."

"Really...?" I asked, clinging to every word that slipped from Sender's mouth.

"Lowwe was born in the North Blue. He grew up under the care of a man with a Devil Fruit ability that could bring inanimate objects to life. Before Lowwe left his home permanently for the Grand Line, he asked that man to use his powers on three objects. First, he asked that his moccasins breath--so that they could remember the feel of dangerous land and tell stories of the people who walked before him. Second, he asked that the foil he carries at his side be awake--so that it could guide him and save his nakama when they need it most. Curiously enough, I've never seen Lowwe use that foil to fight for as long as I've known him... Finally, he asked that this ship live, so it could carry his crew and watch over them."

"Sender, you sound kind of like a prophet right now... how do you know all of this?" I wondered.

Sender laughed. "This may come as a bit of a shock, but the Chikara Chikara fruit has some side effects that many people don't know about."

"I don't understand."

"Well, you know the basics already... I'm a battery man. Though I can't manipulate the energy within myself, I can supply and manipulate energy of any form into any object or being that I please. That was how I was able to excite your regenerative cells so you could heal faster after your fight with "Whirlwind" Wallace. If I wanted to do the same thing to myself, it wouldn't work. That's just the way it is... Now, even though my own cells can't be energize like everyone else, the fruit gives my cells and body a longer term of life than a normal human."

"Sender, I still don't get it," I said.

Sender sighed before saying, "I guess the long and short of it is that I'm older than I appear. Also, I don't sleep. You may have seen me lying down, but I really only do that to relax. In truth, I'm always awake. This is actually my third trip through the Grand Line. I'm really about ninety-five years old."

"WHAT?!" I shouted into the sky. Sure, I gathered that Sender seemed wiser than his years, but ninety-five years seemed impossible.

"Don't act so surprised," Sender said waving a hand in my direction, "I've probably told you this before, but you'll certainly see stranger things on this sea."

"How can I not be surprised!?" I said. "You look so much younger!"

"Yep... that's the Chikara fruit for you. I first met Lowwe when he was ten, and I promised back then that I would join his crew if he ever found a first mate. I visited his caretaker every once and while because we were crew mates during my first run through the Grand Line. His name was Emmanuel Drebough. He got the power to bring objects to life just before we left the Grand Line about forty years ago."

"You knew Lowwe when he was ten...? You must have looked the same way then as you do now. That's pretty weird."

"To tell you the truth," Sender laughed, "It didn't bother Lowwe at all. Being around Drebough introduced him to a lot of strange things, so he was a pretty adaptive kid. I became curious about his perspective of things almost as soon as I met him. When he blurted out that he was going to become a pirate, I nonchalantly made the pledge to join his crew. I had no idea that he would actually hold me to it. That was one series of events I'll never forget..."

"What happened?" I asked. This was all coming as a shock to me, but my curiosity could not be stopped.

Sender stretched his arm over his head. "Are you sure you want to hear?" he goaded. "You look like you need to take a minute to digest what I'm telling you."

I nodded my head and leaned forward. "Of course I wanna hear. What happened?" I repeated carefully.

Sender leaned forward too and spoke just above a whisper, "I consider it a surprise gift that I've been blessed with. I'd like to experience as much as I can with my unnaturally long life... even if it means that I have to risk being killed. This is the only way to live. That's why I'm on this ship at all... Lowwe is one of the more interesting pirates that I've met over the years. He says that he's lucky, but it's much deeper than that. He may not be a super genius, but he has an astounding intuition and a will to prepare for any circumstance that might be thrown into his lap."

"And..." I prodded, "How does that tie into when you became a member of this crew?"

"Well," Sender said with a faint smirk that was barely visible in the night, "Even for all that intuition, Lowwe couldn't have seen what was coming... And even for all the years that I have lived and may live in the future, there was and will never be a moment like the one I witnessed..."

I was completely on edge. Sender was almost teasing me with his buildup.

"What happened?" I whispered.

After a pause in which a wet wind blew past, Sender spoke, "Just before Lowwe was going to set out to sea, he traveled to a couple of islands to find a first mate. It just so happened that one day, he landed on an island where I was also staying. As you might or might not guess, 'she' was there too."

Sender pointed down to the floor. I looked to the wood he sat on and realized that he was talking about Lowwe's first mate. She had long since gone below deck, but I checked over the edge of the Nest just to be sure she wasn't there. Who knows what would have happened if she found us talking about her.

"One thing led to another," Sender said, "And they wound up in a deadlock fight. At that time, Lowwe had already consumed his Devil Fruit, so it was a battle of two heated powers unlike any other. If Lowwe didn't have that fruit, he would probably be dead. They fought and fought and fought for five straight days. I didn't take my eyes off of it for a single second. Neither one of them would back down, and every blow possessed more force than the one that preceded it."

I mouthed the words 'five days', and Sender nodded his head.

"It was a war of wills. They couldn't do significant damage to one another physically, so they battled with their intensity instead. In the end, Lowwe discovered her one weakness and marginally became the victor. She collapsed before he did, and that was the end. He carried her to the nearest medical facility and then collapsed himself immediately after he handed her over. If you ask me, Lowwe was worse off for the wear of the battle. He had suffered a lot more injuries, and it took him two days to recover whereas she only recovered in about four hours. For the time prior to Lowwe's waking, she stood at the foot of his bed and stared at him without blinking once. When Lowwe got up, she agreed to be his first mate. Not long after, I joined too."

"Unbelievable," I breathed.

"That is why, without a doubt, I know that those two are monsters. The way they think and operate is just different from anything else that I've ever seen."

I stared ahead at nothing. There was a chance that Sender was just playing with me, but, as I said before, Sender was always serious. It would be a mistake to take his words as farce.

"I leave that for you to think about, Turning," Sender said slapping me on the shoulder, "I forgot to mention this before, but it's my shift in the Nest now. You head back down and get some rest. I'm sure that I've given you quite enough to consider for the time being."

I nodded and climbed out of the Crow's Nest. Sender probably could have seen the whites of my eyes if he had cared to look. There was no way that I was going to be able to sleep after that. As strange as Gregsbi and Sender were, it seemed as if there were beasts upon the earth that challenged the mind's imagination to an even greater extent.

More than ever, I wondered what her name was.


	12. Arc 2:End: The War

The cold air that I felt during that night in the Crow's Nest turned out to be a small taste of the weather that was to come. The next morning, I went out on deck to feel an icy wind bite into every inch of my flesh. Before I froze, I ran below deck to put on the warmest clothes I could find. Even then, my teeth chattered away like a percussion instrument.

If nothing else, the freezing weather was a clear indication that Sender's predictions were correct. An island was indeed very nearby and that island was, without a doubt, a winter island of the Grand Line.

The next two days were very hectic and busy. I spent most of my time helping Gregsbi with maintenance on the 'Dos Os.' The weather was cold and likely to get colder, so Gregsbi wanted to make sure that the ship was prepared for rapid contractions since wood shrinks as temperatures drop. We both made checks all over the haul to make sure that no leaks or cracks would be caused by any changes to the shape of the wood. It was a lot of work, but Gregsbi's knowledge and experience with carpentry made it much easier. I actually picked up quite a bit just by watching him in action.

It was odd to work on the 'Dos Os' after what Sender had told me, however. The idea of a ship that was actually "alive" didn't hit me until I started helping Gregsbi with more serious shipwright tasks. Every time I drove a nail into the deck, sanded a rough patch down to smoothness, or replaced an old wood peg with a new one, I wondered if I was causing harm.

"Gregsbi," I said at one point during our work, "is this okay...? Aren't we kind of... hurting the ship?"

Gregsbi was dangling off on the side of the haul suspended by a rope that was tied firmly to the mast. He swung a little closer and I heard him laugh. Due to the weather, he had traded his everyday shorts for a pair of heavy duty overalls that were covered in the stains of labor. He also wore a thick brown winter coat and a black wool scarf with a skull and crossbones insignia over his mouth. He pulled down the scarf to reveal--like always--a huge grin.

"So... Sender told ya about that, huh?" He replied. "This ship really is something else. I never would have dreamed that I would work on anything like it. It really is alive. It breathes. It feels. It thinks. Just like you and me..." He paused to take a deep breath. When he exhaled, the air made a thick cloud that dissolved into the atmosphere. "As a carpenter, I've always had a respect for the character that a construction made from wood can take on, but I never would have thought that something as literal as this ever existed. As long as you have an intent to care for her, the 'Dos Os' will understand."

Gregsbi grinned again, threw the scarf over his face, and swung back to work.

After I had that exchange, I started to say "Goodnight" to the ship whenever I went to sleep. Maybe it was just coincidental, but the wood I slept near felt warmer too.

The only thing that was bad about working with Gregsbi so much was that I fell behind on my self-given mission to find out more about my crew mates. Sure, there was still a lot more I could learn about Gregsbi and Sender, but I wanted to be able to talk at least once about the past with Lowwe and--even if she wound up killing me--Lowwe's first-mate. In an effort to put off the prospect of such an early death for as long as possible, I opted to try Lowwe first.

I started out optimistically. During my brief free moments I tried to find him relaxing or working out in the open, but he stayed busy and concealed the entire time. Often, he would lock himself in the "concentration" room and work unseen for an unknowable number of hours. For those few days, he didn't come to the kitchen to eat a single meal with the rest of the crew. Even the first-mate came to at least a couple of meals each day.

It seemed almost as if Lowwe was avoiding me on purpose. When it started to bother me more and more, I went to Sender for some advice.

"Don't worry about Lowwe," Sender said. "He always gets like this before we reach an island. I haven't been able to speak with him for a while either. Remember when I told you about that intuition of his...? He's just making sure that everything is going to be okay when we get there. The fact that we're going to see a winter season is probably making him reconsider a few things."

Sender had on his same black jacket and appeared not to wear anymore layers of clothing despite the dropping temperature. When I asked him about it, he said that he really didn't even need to wear the jacket or put up his hood to feel comfortable in cold weather. Apparently, his Chikara Chikara fruit allowed him to go so far as to energize the air around him and provide heat.

"I had this jacket long before I ate a Devil Fruit," he said with a small smile. "I guess I'm just attached to the style."

Sender's words about Lowwe made me feel better and worse at the same time. For one thing, I understood why Lowwe was operating so erratically. He might have been in his own world, but it seemed as if that world was dedicated to protecting his nakama. Ultimately, I was relieved to learn that Lowwe wasn't avoiding me or--as my imagination conjured up--considering to kick me off of the ship.

With that sensation of relief, however, came a sense of dread. If I couldn't talk to Lowwe, the only way I could live up to my goal was to speak with the first-mate. Too bad for me, she was saturated in an routine that seemed even more distant than Lowwe's.

For one thing, like Sender, she wore no extra clothing for the freezing weather. Whenever I saw her, she was dressed in just a long skirt with a light top that exposed her shoulders. She still walked everywhere in her bare feet too.

Even more odd was that every part of her exposed skin appeared to be unaffected by the cold. Where my skin would flush red with the air, hers would keep its normal hue. She was absolutely invulnerable. I knew that she was Devil Fruit user, but I could only wonder what attributes it had given her to allow that kind of a resistance.

More than once I tried to open my mouth and speak to her, but the airborne sense of fear that seemed to leak from her very presence always made me stop.

I was about to give up. There was no sense in forcing the issue to learn more about Lowwe and the first-mate. I figured that I would just wait and gradually learn more about the both of them as time went on. The night before the winter island was supposed to appear, I cleaned up the kitchen after dinner with those resolutions running through my head. I didn't really want to let it go like that, but I couldn't see any immediate solutions to my problem.

After finishing, I closed up and put on my coat to spend some time out on deck. When I went up and looked to the stern of the ship, my eyes widened.

"Lowwe..." I whispered to no one.

He was perched over the taffrail at the very edge of the ship facing out to sea. A black coat was on his back, waving with the wind. It was the first time I had seen him out on deck for a long time. Maybe, I thought, his preparations for the island were complete. I climbed up to the stern to talk with him. When I got close, I started to ask him if I could sit down, but I was interrupted by a voice coming from behind.

"Lowwe won't be able to hear you if you speak to him now."

I turned and felt a sudden pang of survival adrenaline rush through my body. It was her. She sat there against the rail that separated the landing of the stern from the deck center. I didn't see her when I first came up because of the darkness.

"W- What?" I stammered.

She was as imposing as ever. She sat with her legs crossed and her eyes fixed on Lowwe's back. She still wore nothing but a summer shirt and skirt from which her bare feet comfortably pointed out into the chilling cold. The dark copper hair on her head seemed as if it was alive as the wind swept through it.

"This is where Lowwe comes before we land. Every time he has sat down in that spot, we've come to an island the next day."

I looked from her to Lowwe. I heard a faint cracking sound leave his body. It sounded like he was chewing on something brittle. I took a step closer to see, but her voice rang through the air again and injected an icy chill into my bones that the weather could never instill.

"You should leave," she said.

I looked back to her and, for the first time since I had been on the ship, frowned at her words.

"T-there's no reason for me to do that," I said as stubbornly as I could manage in my fear. "This is the person I call captain. I should be able to speak with him if he's here." I reached out to Lowwe and grabbed his shoulder so that his face and torso opened up slowly like a door. "Lowwe, I just want to talk for--"

I can say, without question, that when Lowwe's face finally turned to mine I was struck with a horror unlike any other on this earth. I'm not sure when it hit me, but it came so suddenly and so swiftly, that I fell backward and landed hard onto my tailbone. It was his eyes...

Lowwe's eyes were wider then I had ever seen them. Everyday he walked around with a sleepy look in his eyes, but now they appeared as full round circles that glinted in the stars. But there was more to it than that... They were empty. Those eyes had no whites, no iris, no color... they were just round empty globes that reflected the world around them. I saw my face in those cold dark depths of space.

Lowwe kept those eyes on me for a long long time. I laid back against the deck shaking uncontrollably. I don't know what Lowwe saw through those spheres of void, but I'd like to think that he saw a nakama. The lips on his face curled upward, and he showed me that terrifyingly fearless grin of his. His teeth and lips were covered in a dark red blood that seeped free from his gums. Quietly, he turned back to sea and the grin faded away. I heard two more pops come from his mouth as his jawbone flexed in a chew.

I slid backward from Lowwe's form until I jumped at the feeling of a railing on my back. I looked to the first-mate.

"W-what is that?" I asked pointing to Lowwe. "W-who...?"

"You forgot," she said. Her eyes were still glued to Lowwe's outline in the dark. "Didn't you just say that's 'the person I call captain'? "

I took a deep breath to calm myself down. "But... but what's happening to him?" I said carefully.

She took a deep breath and exhaled very slowly. In that moment, I felt so far from reality that I thought everything might be a dream.

"Nothing is happening to him. This is just what Lowwe does to make sure he's ready. It's as simple as that. I've seen him do this ever since I joined. When he sits there, he sees the past play before his eyes like a long trail of pictures. He learns from it by watching it over and over. It's truly astounding..."

Those words calmed me down. Somewhere in her voice there was a connotation of awe that made her seem more human. I sat up from the floor and looked carefully at the first-mate. I was always running around in fear of her, so it was the first time that I got to really study the features of her face. Like always, her eyebrows were weighted down into a frown. Her eyes were still unwaveringly linked to Lowwe and their gaze was unintelligible in the darkness. I could see that her lips were smooth and pink and the line of her jaw was soft and delicate.

The fact hit me hard: she was... a girl.

"If you insist on looking in this direction any longer," she said, "I'll shatter the orbits on your face and scratch out your eyes with the fragments of bone."

With that, I quickly turned my glance to Lowwe and sat in silence. Before long, I resolved that this was the best chance I was going to get. I had to speak to her right then and there or else I would never be able to do so again.

"Sender told me a little--"

"Shut your mouth," she interrupted. "Just because Sender says one or two things does not mean you have a right to make assumptions about Lowwe or me. I'll make this as clear as possible for you... I hate this ship, I hate this crew, and, more than anything else, I hate Lowwe."

"But... I don't understand."

"That's because you'll never understand people like me. Yes, what Sender told you is true. Lowwe and I did fight. We fought for a long time. In my life, I had never before encountered anyone who was as strong as Lowwe. Even so, I believed I would win. And yet... before I knew it my foot was sliding. I was so close to beating him, but the distance I had to travel to reach him might as well have been the length of this night sky. And then afterward... when I was told that he carried me to the doctors in his own arms... It was so insulting!" Her eyes had fueled with glare. It seemed like she might bore a hole into Lowwe's back with her stare. Her fists clenched tightly and veins raised to the surface on her small forearms.

"Even now he's so far away that he's untouchable..."

After she said that, she began to calm. The fantastic wave of rage subsided as quickly as it had come. She still wore her usual look of incurable anger, but her fists had relaxed and her eyes no longer gave off the sting of pure hatred that seeped forth just a few seconds beforehand.

"But I knew," she continued, "that I would not catch up to his strength unless I followed him. Even if I walked this earth with no other goal than to get stronger, I saw that I would be unable to find a road that was going to be as trying and testing as the one he would pick out. I'm not here for pleasantries at all. As soon as I can, I'm going to kill Lowwe. I can give a damn about anything else. His life belongs to me."

I slid away from her a few inches. I wasn't sure if this was something that I wanted to hear. Did Sender know what her goal was...? Did Gregsbi know? Lowwe's life was constantly in danger while she was around. I decided that I had to tell someone as soon as I got the chance. In the meantime, I spat out something just so that I wouldn't seem suspicious.

"But Lowwe told me before that you're already the strongest member of the crew," I said.

For the first time that night, she broke her vision from Lowwe and looked at me in the eye.

"Lowwe said that...?" She asked.

I couldn't do anything but nod frantically in response.

She looked back to Lowwe and stared for a long minute. "Lowwe," she breathed, "is a complete fool."

I stood to my feet and turned my back on her. Lowwe was a lot of things: strange, a little goofy, and seemingly a real-life monster. As he sat there on that taffrail with those black pits for eyes, I knew I couldn't fathom the places he could go or the things he could do. It was clear to me, however, that he was no fool.

"I can't accept that," I said. "I may not know that much about your strength, but I do know that you could kill me in an instant if you wanted. Even so, I can't sit here and swallow what you've just said about Lowwe. If he hadn't come to my island when he did, I don't know what would have happened. Right now, the life I was living just a few weeks ago seems so far away. I know I'm still more skeptical than Lowwe, but the way he treats dreams makes it seem as if they're so close that I can touch them. I don't care if I die or live for saying it... A fool couldn't do that."

The air swept past us, and it reminded me of the cold. Lowwe must have been finished eating whatever he was chewing on because he remained in abject silence. I wonder what gave me the gall to defend something that I didn't even understand...

"You don't care if you die, huh?" she said over the quiet sea. "That's good... You would be pretty useless if you did. The lives of the people on this ship are already over. That is the cost of piracy. You don't belong here if you can't say and believe something like that. I don't always know what Lowwe thinks when he picks up these stray dogs from random islands, but he must see something that I don't. The fact still stands, however. Lowwe is my enemy. When the time comes for me to kill him, you should stay out of the way. If you interfere, you'll become my enemy as well."

I looked back to say something, but I stopped short when I saw that she was looking to my face again.

"My name is Free Amiori Dresden. Only Lowwe can use my full name. You will address me as 'ma'am.' Do you understand?"

"I do, but I will fight you if you try to kill Lowwe. I owe him my life anyway."

"Fine. Do as you please. Now, for your own sake, you should go below deck."

"What for--"

"GO BELOW DECK NOW!!" she screamed.

Even though I had the courage to stand up to her just a few seconds beforehand, I was immediately put back into place. I didn't even think of arguing. As fast as I could, I ran below deck and slammed the door behind me.

"What," I said to myself, "is going on here?"

END OF ARC II


	13. Arc 3:Start: Ice

**NOTE:**

**This is the third Arc of the story narrated by Turning Arcshaw about his transformation from Grand Line resident to Grand Line pirate. In the first arc, the young sniper Turning meets the pirate captain Lowwe Lemming and joins his crew after surviving through a violent ordeal with a brutal pirate known as "Whirlwind" Wallace. He leaves his island carrying the dreams of his Uncle and his own dream to find his parents whom the marines abducted shortly after his birth. In the second arc, Turning discusses his new life aboard the pirate ship 'Dos Os' and his efforts to learn more about his fellow crew mates. In that time he discovers that there is more depth, strength, and wisdom to the people surrounding him than he could have ever imagined. The second arc ends the night before the crew expects their next island to appear. During that night, Turning sees Lowwe as he had never before seen him, and the wild past between Lowwe and the first mate becomes clearer.**

**And so, the story continues...**

Marksmanship is about concentration and trust. The mind must be blank and breathing must be contained. Vision can black out everything in the world and leave only the tiny space within the rifle's sight clear. Crystal clear. It's called focus, but not everyone has it. When the mind is set then it must trust the body to be steady. Not to shake. Not to slip. The sniper must be a rock. Absolutely still. I learned it when I first began to practice shooting: marksmanship is Zen.

Knowing these facts then, it was clear to me that I had no chance of hitting a single target as I practiced shooting in the Crow's Nest of the 'Dos Os' during the early afternoon. I was too distracted thinking about other things.

I adjusted the jacket on my back so that I could sit more comfortably. We were supposed to spot a winter island at some point during the day. I wanted to get a couple of rounds of practice in while waiting for the island to show up, but I couldn't get it together. Disappointed with myself, I relaxed the bolt on my rifle.

During the night, not even twelve hours beforehand, I had spoken to the first mate and learned her name. The thing that was weighing heavily on my mind and distracting my shooting, however, was what I had seen in Lowwe.

"What was he doing on the taffrail last night...?" I whispered to myself. I remembered the look of his round and wide dark eyes and shuddered. I had never felt such fear in my life. Not even with "Whirlwind" Wallace.

When I went below after Dresden had screamed at me to get off the deck, I went straight to Sender in order to figure out what was going on. I knew that he was awake somewhere even though it was so late.

Sender's words still stung in my mind. "It's very simple, Turning..." he said after I had found him in the 'Concentration' room, "Dresden saved your life."

My mouth was agape. "WHAT?! What could you possibly mean?!" I asked.

"You told me that you saw Lowwe on the taffrail just now and he looked much different than usual... something about his eyes, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I've never seen anything like it. Lowwe's eyes looked like empty black globes. They were almost perfect circles, and they seemed like they could reflect certain things around them. Not only that, Lowwe's teeth and gums were bleeding. I think he was chewing something, but I couldn't really tell."

"Listen to me," Sender breathed deeply, "I'm not exactly sure what Lowwe and Dresden do when they're out on deck that late, but I have a theory... Because Dresden's strength is on par with Lowwe's, it gives him the ability to practice techniques that he wouldn't have been able to test out otherwise."

"I don't really get it," I said, "Are you saying that you think Lowwe is practicing a new fighting move and miss Dresden is his sparring partner?"

It felt weird calling a girl who was almost the same age as me 'miss,' but I never wanted to be on the wrong end of one of Dresden's punches, which I had singlehandedly witnessed part the sea into monstrous waves.

Even more than that..." Sender said in deep thought, "I think she is up there to keep Lowwe under control. Who knows what kind of attacks he's coming up with. They might even destroy the entire ship. But still... you shouldn't let it get to you that much. I'm not saying that you should forget what you saw. In fact, you might want to go over it a few times in your mind to see if you can guess about Lowwe's Devil fruit abilities. Other than that, you should just be thankful that Dresden sent you down below deck. Like I said, she probably saved your life."

"But that's just the thing. I don't think miss Dresden wants to help. She told me herself that she wants to kill Lowwe!"

Sender held up his hand. "That's enough for now," he said. "You should know better than to think you can comprehend the dynamics of either one of those monsters in just a few weeks of being a member of this crew."

I sighed deeply and breathed out a mass of hot air. In the sea, clumps of ice collected into white patterns that shifted with the motion of the waves.

When I came up on deck during the morning, I inspected the ship to see if anything had changed or if there were any clues left behind that might give me hints about Lowwe and Dresden's training. I found nothing. Toward the bow of the ship, Dresden was standing on the railing with her eyes closed in meditation. Did she really want to kill him...? I wondered. It still baffled me how she could be so comfortable in such cold weather while wearing such light summer clothing. I didn't bother lingering. There was no way I wanted to be threatened with death so early in the day.

After fixing breakfast in my role as temporary cook, everyone, including Lowwe and Dresden, came to the dining room and ate just like usual. Lowwe was still the same guy. He didn't change at all. If I hadn't watched him so closely, I wouldn't have known that he had been skipping all of his meals and acting so erratically during the past few days.

At one point, he caught me looking at him as he sipped down a cup of sweet lemon tea.

"Are you ready to visit your first island as a pirate, Turning?" he asked grinning.

"I'll do my best to help out the crew," I said simply.

"That's good to hear," he replied. "Make sure you are absolutely prepared. You wouldn't be on board this ship if you weren't needed."

When he said that, it made me feel a little more comfortable. I think part of me was beginning to accept that I wasn't going to be able to completely understand the captain. Like Sender had said before, he was just a different animal than the rest of us.

Gray clouds stretched in each direction as far as the eye could see. I dug into my pants pocket and pulled out the scope I had finished constructing just before meeting Lowwe. The wood of the Crow's Nest felt cold as I leaned against its side and peered at the distance through the scope. At first glance, nothing of interest caught my eye. I lazily scanned back and forth along the line where the sea and sky met. Though the waves rocked awkwardly and ice clumped everywhere, the island was nowhere to be found. I was just about to give up with the scope when a tiny flash of white suddenly speckled the horizon. I pushed myself closer and tightened my vision. The small spot of white wasn't going anywhere. In fact, it was getting slightly bigger as the ship crept forward. Where I had felt freezing bitter cold, I now felt hot with adrenaline and excitement. Quickly, I jumped down the rope ladder and threw myself to the deck.

"LAND!!" I said holding up my scope. "I see land!"

Gregsbi hopped up and down with glee, while Sender and Lowwe approached me. Sender stopped in front of me as Lowwe walked past to the very bow of the ship.

"Let Sender see," Lowwe said to me.

I handed the scope to Sender who oriented the device about three inches from his eye. He scanned the horizon and spotted the object that I had just picked out.

"That's an island all right... I can't say I've seen it before either," Sender said handing the scope back to me. "But we both know that's a good thing... This means that the Log we stole from Wallace is set to a pathway through the Grand Line that I've never seen before." Over his shoulder I saw Dresden standing with her back to the new island. She didn't say a word, like usual.

"That's great news," Lowwe said turning back to us with a smile. "I can't really tell because it's so far away, but it looks like there's a mountain. When we get there, I think I'm gonna climb it."

"HERE WE COOOOME!!" Gregsbi shouted to the sea after madly hopping around a few times.

If had known what was going to happen on that island, I might have suggested that we turn back.


	14. Arc 3:Part 2: Definitions

The island was still a decent clip away when the white caps of a junior mountain jutting from the land surface penetrated our vision with fine detail. It looked small enough and gentle enough where a person could walk up to its highest peak, but from the distance it was difficult to tell how long such an escapade might take. Two hours...? Maybe six...? At the time, it was really anyone's guess.

Lowwe hadn't taken his eyes off of the snow-white mass since I had first came down and announced its appearance. He took deep breaths through his nose as he watched. It was like he was trying to smell the air for some sense of the adventure that the place would bring us.

"Gregsbi," Lowwe said through a yawn that broke away his personal silence.

I'm not really sure where he was when Lowwe said his name, but it didn't matter at all. In a flash of blinding quickness, Gregsbi stood at the ready. He got there so suddenly and so instantly that I would have said that he had materialized from thin air if I didn't know better.

"Yes, sir!" Gregsbi yelled after striking out a salute. If he were wearing a marine outfit, Gregsbi would have easily passed for a World Government sailor. Really, the only thing that was out of place in his appearance aside from his clothing was the huge toothy smile that seemed to always beam from his face.

"I realize that this is asking a bit much with these freezing weather conditions, but could you give us an island scouting report before we land?"

I could feel my own eyebrows notch down in confusion.

"Scouting report...?" I asked out loud.

Lowwe and Gregsbi continued on as if they heard nothing.

"Sure, Captain..." Gregsbi said looking out to the island for a moment. "It looks like it'll take me about an hour or so to take care of it. That's not too long is it?"

"Nope," Lowwe replied. "In fact, that's just perfect. By the looks of it we'll get there in about two or three hours anyway."

"Gotcha," Gregsbi said, moving closer to the bow. He suddenly bent over, removed his belt of carpentry tools, and began fiddling with the laces on his boots until the strings splayed loosely from the thick leather tops. From that position, Gregsbi jumped up onto the deck railing leaving his boots behind. On Gregsbi's feet were a pair of thick grey wool socks that looked like they were very comfortable in cold weather. When I saw them, I remembered how frozen my own feet felt, and I wished I had a pair. It was an odd coincidence that Gregsbi chose that same moment to reach down to his feet and pull both socks from his toes.

"WOOOO!!" Gregsbi exclaimed grinning through a shiver that swept over his entire body. "You don't really know how cold it is until you let your feet feel it."

Gregsbi tossed the socks down so that they rolled to a stop next to his boots. On the rail, he pushed his body into a low crouch and turned his gaze toward the island.

"Okay," he whispered to himself, "it's time for turbo speed..."

The expression on his face instantly became more serious.

"Be careful..." Lowwe said, "Something about this island seems a little strange to me."

"Roger." Gregsbi replied with a nod. Then, he smiled. "This is going to be an absurd amount of fun."

With those words Gregsbi furiously kicked off from the ship and rocketed himself over the surface of the sea. His legs were peddling in a running motion at an incredible quickness that I had never before seen from him. When he touched the water's surface he stumbled briefly before his body made an adjustment and his sheer speed took over.

My jaw dropped. I didn't think it was possible. Gregsbi was running on water. It didn't take long for his small body to vanish in the distance as he rapidly approached the island.

"What the hell was that!!" I screamed out in astonishment.

Lowwe laughed at me and clapped his hand down onto my shoulder.

"You might understand it better if you picked up one of Gregsbi's boots."

I looked at Lowwe and he nudged me in the direction of the shoes. Obligingly, I knelt down to get a better look. After noting that they smelled pretty bad, I moved my hand to pick one up. To my surprise, it barely budged.

"You've got to be kidding me..." I muttered sliding a second hand under the boot so that I could give it a better shot. After much effort, I was able to lift it from the deck. As it was suspended in my hands, I felt the weight sag and I dropped the boot before I strained myself. When it hit the deck, the Seastone sole made a dull metallic thud against the wood.

"Unreal..." I gasped, "That boot by itself must weight around sixty or seventy pounds."

"Seventy-two pounds, if I'm not mistaken," Lowwe interjected.

"But... when Gregsbi runs around and does his exercises he makes them seem like nothing."

"I know," Lowwe said staring back to the island. "Gregsbi is already very fast and quick, but when he takes those boots off, his mobility increases exponentially. After I first met him, he told me that the weight of his shoes was nothing compared to what he used for training."

"Geez... his hometown island must be even more incredible than I imagined it," I breathed.

"Absolutely. There were some very strong individual's on Weathermy..." Lowwe paused. I think the memory of Gregsbi's island came into his mind at that moment. In the grand scheme of his journey, I wondered how heavily he considered each of the people he had met and each of the places he had seen. Was the world that sat ahead of him that much more grand or did he see every step taken as an equal blessing of life? Now, without a doubt, I can say it was the ladder.

Soon after, he sleepily continued, "As you know, this is a small crew and each of us has a few more responsibilities than normal. Gregsbi's primary position is as the 'Dos Os' shipwright, but his secondary position is as the scout. With his bootless speed he has the ability to run on water and survey an island's perimeter to see if there are any interesting things that we should take into account. It was Gregsbi's fine scouting work that alerted us to the presence of 'Whirlwind' Wallace back when we were at your island. Gregsbi is usually pretty goofy and simple minded, but when it comes to scouting, carpentry, and fighting, there are very few who are as dedicated and serious."

"I don't get it..." I said as I was putting it all together, "if Gregsbi is so much faster when he takes his boots off, wouldn't he be better off not using them at all?"

"Well, that all depends," Lowwe replied shrugging. "If he's fighting a normal person, I guess he would be better off without the boots. But if he fights a Devil Fruit user, then the boots could mean the difference between life and death. All told, Gregsbi wants to be able to adapt to situations as quickly as possible, so he's opted to wear the boots at all times to be prepared for the unexpected. You and I both know that surviving on the Grand Line requires something a bit more complex than the logical or the straightforward. Gregsbi's just bringing his own individuality into this dogfight... In fact, we ALL are."

It occurred to me right then that different people put different definitions onto the word 'piracy' as a way of both capturing their dreams and surviving in a cutthroat world. I didn't understand this cold truth when I worked in the bar with Uncle. There were ruthless pirates out there who did things that harmed civilians and innocents, but it was very well possible that that was the only way they knew how. Some pirates may have even thought that they could only keep moving forward if they eliminated all obstacles both strong and weak.

I hated myself a little for coming to this revelation because it even made me feel a bit of sympathy for 'Whirlwind' Wallace. I despised him for what he had done to my Uncle, but he was operating on the situation from a perspective with events and situations about which I had no clue. Maybe he had tried to be a better and more polite person in the past... maybe not. It was impossible to tell. In the end, however, he couldn't surpass Lowwe and his crew. The experiences of both groups of pirates culminated at that point, and, in the end, Lowwe's crew was able to move on while Wallace's crew was left without a flag or a Log Pose. In a clash of dreams with no negotiations, there can only be one winner. Each step to get there, each conflict, each trial --it's all a factor.

Lowwe turned and yawned. He walked over toward Sender who was surveying the island from the stern of the ship. Before he went past, he stopped and said, "I'd like you to keep a lookout on the island from the Crow's Nest too. You might be able to catch some things with your scope that Gregsbi may overlook."

"Sure thing," I said jumping onto the rope ladder and climbing my way back up the Crow's Nest. Before I reached the top, I looked back to see Lowwe casually slide up to Sender and ask a few questions. I now understood that the reason Lowwe could be such an anomaly among pirates was because he was absolutely fearless and strong. No one could tread on the way he defined piracy because no one could stop him.


	15. Arc 3:Part 3: Gale

The next cold hour in the Crow's Nest passed by fairly uneventfully. I did my best to keep a sharp lookout for something of interest upon the island that we were fast approaching, but I had a great deal of trouble finding anything. It took me a while to realize that the fact that nothing really stuck out was an observation that was curious in and of itself.

No matter how many times I scanned the island, I could make out no semblance of a town or a port at which we could dock. A dense snowy forest of tall trees formed a wall of privacy around the coast, making any survey of the island's center impossible. When I inspected the trees through my scope, I expected to see dead brown bark or green leaves covered with snow, but not a single speck of color showed through my lens save for pure white. I couldn't tell for sure, but it looked as if the leaves themselves were white, and the snow only compounded their icy purity.

All of these things struck me as odd, but none of it seemed alarming enough for me to raise that much of a fuss. Instead, I watched the surface of the ice water in the distance hoping to catch Gregsbi on his return sprint from his scouting trip. Soon enough, I saw the waves breaking behind Gregsbi's feet as he jetted along the sea. I gaped through my lens the entire way. I was still unable to completely grasp his ability to literally run on water. I remember shaking my head in disbelief only to find that it remained real with every jumble of my skull.

I was so fascinated by Gregsbi's running, in fact, that I didn't immediately realize the look of agony on his face or the screams of pain that came from his throat. After jumping back up to the deck, he quickly ran below without losing a single step of speed. As fast as I could, I climbed from the Nest and yelled to Lowwe.

"Don't worry," he said simply.

Frowning, I hurried below deck. Just before leaving the bitter cold, I caught a glimpse of Dresden. She was looking out to sea completely indifferent to the situation. Lowwe followed me below, leaving her in the winter winds by herself. At least Lowwe seemed concerned enough to check on Gregsbi. Dresden, on the other hand, didn't care at all. I grew more suspicious, and I noted that our lives meant nothing to her. The only life that mattered, in her mind, was Lowwe's, and the only thing she wanted out of that life was for it to end beneath her fists. In that moment, I was reminded that had to talk to Lowwe about what she had said. I wondered again if he knew that she meant to kill him. It still haunted me from time to time.

But the thought was instantly pushed from my mind when I entered the kitchen to see Gregsbi with both feet in a pot of water that Sender was heating with the palm of his hand.

Gregsbi laughed out loudly with both fists in the air. "IT'S FREEZING COLD!! MY TOES ALMOST FELL OFF!!"

I nearly fell down when I heard him, and even though I was relieved, I almost felt like hitting him. To think that Gregsbi stirred up all that commotion just because of his damn cold toes... Lowwe, of course, just chuckled and thanked Gregsbi for putting his feet at risk. Sender let out a deep sigh and leaned his back against the stove.

"No problem, Captain, and thanks for the water, Sender," Gregsbi said with a salute. Inside the pot, his feet were rubbing back and forth against each other in an effort to get warm. As they splashed around in their tiny bath, Gregsbi spoke, "This island is strange, Captain. The woods around the perimeter are so thick that I couldn't even scout out the land. I did see this, though." From his pocket, Gregsbi pulled out a leaf that was as white as snow.

Immediately, I gasped. "I saw that too, only I wasn't sure about what I was looking at."

Gregsbi nodded. "I know. That makes sense. I've never seen a white leaf before either, and every tree that I saw on this island has leaves the same color as this one."

Gregsbi passed the leaf to Lowwe who inspected it and handed it to Sender. Sender poked at the leaf and nodded a few times before Gregsbi continued, "Also, I checked out around where the mountain meets the coast, and it seems like there may be a cove back there that goes unused. From the distance, it looks like there's no opening in the ice, but when you get up close, you can see something there."

Lowwe yawned. "Very interesting," he said. Lowwe was probably the only one on earth who could pull that off: sincerely convey that something was interesting while seeming tired and completely disinterested. I was confused by Lowwe's mannerisms, but Gregsbi seemed to straighten up and bounce with glee at the sight.

"Yep. Yep," Gregsbi said grinning. "There's one more thing too..." Gregsbi paused to reach down into his pocket. "I saw only one more place to dock, but that place was occupied."

Sender looked up from his inspection of the leaf as Lowwe yawned again.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"It didn't seem like that good of a place to land. I mean, it was just a small clearing, and the woods were really thick beyond it. Too thick to travel past by foot, I'd say. Still, there was a ship docked there."

"What did you see?" Sender inquired.

Gregsbi put his hand to his chin. "It's weird, Sender. Those guys didn't have a 'Jolly Roger' or a Marine insignia. They were flying a blank flag."

Sender raised his eyebrows and looked at Lowwe. "Sometimes," he said, "hired mercenaries fly blank flags to symbolize that their slate is clean and they can go to the highest bidder. Who knows what they are or who they work for... what were they doing Gregsbi?"

"Well, I didn't want to be seen, so I couldn't stick around too long," Gregsbi replied, "but I did find something interesting. They were doing a lot of things really stealthily, so I poked around their camp a bit to see if I could turn something up. What I wound up finding was a huge tarp in the snow that was being used to cover an entrance to some massive underground cave. My guess is that those guys were in that cave digging for something because I saw lots of tools all over the place. Not only that, there was a small pile of weird looking rocks stashed away in a corner. Like I said, I wasn't able to stick around long, but I did manage to swipe one away from right under their noses."

At that, Gregsbi drew his hand from his pocket to reveal that it was wrapped around a solid white crystal structure no bigger than a bar of soap. The way the light seemed to dance from its surface was hypnotizing. Even though I had no idea what it was, I knew immediately that it was something of great worth.

Sender seemed to have the same impression because I noticed that his eyes grew wider at the sight. He walked over to Gregsbi's seat. "Gregsbi, let me see that."

Gregsbi shrugged and placed it into Sender's hand. Sender felt its weight and ran a finger along its surface before quickly coming to a conclusion. After taking a deep breath, he walked over to Lowwe, handed him the stone, and found a seat in one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

Lowwe looked at the stone before casually asking, "Well, what do you see, Sender?"

Sender looked up to Lowwe with a serious look on his face. They stared at each other for a long instant as Gregsbi and I blinked cluelessly back and forth between them. Suddenly, a twisted smile broke out onto Sender's face. "It seems like this island has already thrown us a cosmic twist."

At those words, Lowwe flashed his teeth and gave us a glimpse of that fearless smile of his. It was the same smile that now sat at the root of my greatest dreams and my most terrifying nightmares.

"That stone," Sender said, "is a substance known as 'Gale.' It's very rare and I imagine that only a few pirates on the entire Grand Line actually know about it. This island has probably been in the winter season for a very long time. Keep in mind that this is just a theory, but some archeologists argue that the seasons of different islands on the Grand Line are not fixed for all eternity. That is to say, a summer island may be in summer for a few hundred years, but then it'll switch to something else on a relative time scale. All in all, the theory states that each island goes through all four seasons, but the time that they spend in each season is independent and does not flow with the weather outside of the Grand Line. This island that we're about to go to either disproves the theory, is an exception to the rule, or has been in the winter season so long that its wildlife has come to adapt to winter conditions. I suspected this when Gregsbi showed me this white leaf. The trees here are born to survive in cold conditions, and they have adapted to absorb as much sun as possible given what little sun they have in a constant winter. Hence, the completely white leaves. Now, however, I'm certain that this place has been in winter many many years..."

"Why's that?" I questioned. Sender was lost in thought. It seemed like everything he was saying was just mechanical, and, underneath, there was a more important discussion taking place within his mind.

" 'Gale' can only form in a place like this," he replied automatically. "Only in a place so cold for so long can water be tortured into the stone you see before you. You see, 'Gale' is just like ice but with two important differences. For one, it has a higher melting point than regular ice, and for another, its density is much greater."

Lowwe gave me the stone so that I could see for myself. When it dropped into my hands, I felt a surprise akin to when I had tried to pick up Gregsbi's boots for the first time. It was very much heavier than it looked. I was on the verge a strain just turning it over in my hands. It felt cold and solid, and it did not melt on my skin. When I handed it back to Sender, I felt as if a chill had left my body and I was warmer than ever before.

"This small piece of 'Gale,' would probably melt out to be two or three gallons of water. Maybe more. It's exceptionally valuable because of its rarity and its business appeal. I've seen 'Gale' used as jewelry just as well as I've seen 'Gale' used to transport absurd quantities of water in miniscule spaces. We've stumbled upon something huge. Right now, my biggest questions are who are those blank-flag people that Gregsbi saw, and who are they working for? It could get nasty if it involves 'Gale.' "

Lowwe turned to walk back up on deck. "Then it's settled," he said. "After I talk to Amiori about what's going on, lets pay those 'blank-flags' a visit and ask them ourselves."

After shuddering at his mention of Dresden's middle name, I asked Lowwe what seemed like the obvious question. "You're being serious, aren't you?"

He slung his winter coat out of the way and grabbed the hilt of the foil still resting in his belt of rope.

"My friend here says he wants a closer look at the situation," he said, "and I feel compelled to happily oblige."


	16. Arc 3:Part 4: Passing

Lowwe was straightforward with me. "Turning, Gregsbi tells me that the 'blank-flag' ship sits in a deep water zone along the coast of the island. We're not going to pay these guys an extended visit. I'm more interested in how they'll react to our presence than anything else. The plan is to build a little momentum as we make our way to their location and then to drift along side their ship at a slow crawl. We wont be in the area very long, and we'll probably only be able to exchange a very small amount of conversation with the other ship. Who knows... they might not talk to us at all. In the worst case, a battle will break out. We wont make the first move, though. After this encounter, we're going to take the ship into the cove by the mountain that Gregsbi saw earlier. If his guess is right, we'll find a way into the island by that route. It doesn't seem like it's going to be easy to get inland. These trees are too thick. It's like there's a wall surrounding the perimeter. A pass by the mountain may be our only hope."

I swallowed a mouthful of air. "This is pretty intense then."

"Yes it is," Sender said, walking in from behind. "I think it's absolutely reckless, Lowwe. I don't know what you hope to find out, but I can't get around the fact that this detour is pretty much detrimental for us no matter how you look at it. Any reasonable person would prefer to enter this island carefully without being noticed by anyone. What if the 'blank-flag' crew is under a World Government contract? So far our trip through the Grand Line has been pretty stealthy. Are you sure that you want to risk blowing that?"

Lowwe shot a small smirk at Sender. "Sender, you're being hypocritical, aren't you? You've been in situations like this hundreds of times before. Don't give me that 'be careful' speech. Wouldn't you rather see something a bit more interesting?"

Sender looked at Lowwe through squinted eyes. Suddenly, he flashed a smile. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear," he said. "It would be boring if we tiptoed our way through the Grand Line." He turned away from us and walked off into his own business. Before he got far, he turned around and tossed the chunk of 'Gale' into Lowwe's hands. "Show me something I haven't seen before."

Lowwe held the icy rock in front of him and clenched. "I intend to."

As we got nearer to the location where Gregsbi had spotted the 'blank-flag' ship, Lowwe climbed onto the island-facing rail of the 'Dos Os' and took a casual seat. The air felt stiffer than usual. It was almost as if nature itself knew a standoff was about to take place. I went to help Gregsbi out with ship steering, but he said that it wasn't an issue.

"The 'Dos' will take care of things for the time being," he said with a grin.

I nodded. Certainly, I was beginning to get a handle on fantasy of our pirate life because the idea of the 'Dos Os' being alive and handling steering on its own was now commonplace. Thinking of the routines to which I had grown accustomed reminded me to grab my rifle. It would be bad news if it wasn't nearby when I needed it most.

After making sure my rifle was set for action, I climbed back up on deck to find Dresden standing on the narrow rail next to Lowwe's sitting form. The way she seemed to drift so high with her long skirt and copper hair waving in the air reminded me of when I had witnessed her wave-inducing punch. I walked by the two of them and noticed that they were talking. Without breaking their line-of-sight away from the nearby island coast, their words passed between each other icily.

"... It just strikes me as odd that you would lie so easily, Lowwe," Dresden said without emotion. It was clear that neither of them had noticed my presence, or, better yet, neither of them chose to acknowledge it. "Why would you say something like that and make a mockery out of me? You even told that utter garbage to the newest member of your crew."

I slowed down my pace. I had no idea I would be a part of their conversation. As I focused my hearing, it occurred to me that this was the first time I had ever heard these two actually engaged full-on conversation. Usually they carried on in their own way, or, aside from the occasional one word responses Dresden would spit at Lowwe's comments, they would remain in abject silence around one another.

Lowwe yawned. "Amiori," he said, "What I said is the truth. You are the strongest one this ship."

I saw Dresden's fist clench. The muscles in her hand were forced so tight that I could see her arm shake with rage. A drop of blood broke from the skin in the palm of her hand. I was afraid.

"Then why can't I kill you...?" she breathed, restraining herself.

Lowwe lowered his head as if he were inspecting something on the island very closely. The words he muttered were the most cold and serious I had ever heard from his mouth.

"You don't lose to me because you are weak. You lose to me because you are strong... Stronger than you know. The problem is that you don't understand yourself, Amiori. If you come at me with that undeveloped will of yours, what do you expect? I'll just put you back in your place every single time."

I watched Dresden's reaction carefully. I thought she would yell or attack, but she did quite the opposite. Her fist relaxed, and she folded her arms in front of her. Slowly, I was beginning to understand the relationship that these two had. Lowwe knew full well that Dresden wanted to kill him all along. Still, he wanted her there because she was the only one who could stand beside him. Certainly, she wanted to be the one to land the finishing blow to his life, but, more importantly, there was no way she would allow anyone else to do it.

"I'll follow you closely, Lowwe..." she said. "Maybe then I can catch a glimpse of what you see. I just want you to remember that your hateful life is mine. It is the single plague of my existence. I own it, and when I figure out how to break it, I'll do so."

"Good."

I tiptoed away. I think I preferred it when they were silent. Their speech was always direct and chilling when they were around one another. They were two people who seemed to know each other so well, yet they remained worlds apart. It was disturbing, to say the least.

Thankfully, the sun had come out in great force that day to dispel away some of the chills left not only by their conversation but also by the winter air. I looked down the snowy island coast and noted that our approach made it impossible for anyone around the bend to see the 'Dos Os.' This way, I figured, the 'blank-flag' ship would be caught slightly off-guard by our sudden presence. It was a clever scheme by Lowwe since the only time that the 'blank flags' would have to prepare both physically and mentally for our presence would be when we were already upon them.

We crept forward slow and sure. The bend came close. Before I knew it, everyone was on the deck watching the approach. When the 'Dos Os' stuck its nose out beyond the turn, I felt finality creep down my back. We were now exposed. It would only be a matter of moments before our confrontation with the 'blank flags'.

I looked to each face of the crew just to gauge their reaction. Gregsbi, like always, was grinning madly. His body was bouncing up and down like he had just consumed a vat of sugar. He could barely contain himself. Sender, on the other hand, looked stern. Even so, there was a glint of expectation in his eyes that told me he was looking forward to what was going to happen. In that sense, he was similar to Gregsbi. As the ship continued forward, Dresden eyed the sea with a sturdy anger. I couldn't tell what was going through her mind. She caught me staring at her and sharpened her gaze.

"You're practically begging to be killed, aren't you?"

"No!" I shouted quickly, jerking my eyes to Lowwe.

Lowwe, interestingly, seemed to be a mixture of all three. He wore a smirk that gave off Gregsbi's contentedness, yet it possessed a quietness that gave off Sender's wisdom and a heaviness that carried Dresden's confidence. I felt myself growing smaller by the instant. Was I really supposed to be in this crew...?

Before that question bore down onto my mind I slapped myself back into reality. Lowwe told me before that he picked me for a reason. I had a place. Now is not the time to feel insignificant, I thought. This is the Grand Line.

When I refocused up ahead, I saw that the 'blank flag' ship was in clear view. It was a brass colored boat that looked well-kept yet battle worn. It was bigger than the 'Dos Os' but bulky and less graceful. Cannons lined the hall and jagged rails guarded the deck. Each dark sail was pulled up tightly, and, atop the mast, a lone solid black flag drifted in the wind.

We approached closer, and it became clear that they were preparing for us. On the cost where they were docked, thuggish men crawled out of snowy tents sprawled about a clearing in the white woods. Weapons were held at their sides, waiting for instinct to pull them into action. Seeing them made me notice how my own hands tightened around the coldness of my rifle. Upon their ship, faces turned and bodies raised. Several of them gathered at the railing closest to our ship, guns and cutlasses at the ready.

Lowwe was the first one to speak. "Great weather we're having..." he said in a voice that lifted clearly across the water, "wouldn't you say?"

I looked at him. Who says something like that...?!

A man in a thick brown winter coat with a hood that was lined with fur was the one to respond. We drifted close. Our rails were within twenty feet of each other. The man's scruffy beard and sharp face gave off an aura of wildness. "Your flag carries no weight, and yet you speak like you're well-known. Carry on, pirate... you don't know who or what you're dealing with."

Lowwe, brought his arm back and threw something onto their deck. When the men of the other ship saw what it was, their faces instantly solidified with hostility. It was the lone piece of 'Gale' that Gregsbi has stolen just a few hours beforehand.

"I know enough," Lowwe said.

The bearded man had not even taken a look at the 'Gale' that Lowwe tossed to his feet. He looked at each face of the crew and then stopped at Gregsbi.

"So, I was right... a little rodent was scurrying around our camp." Then he smiled to Lowwe. "You rookie... you have no clue about the width of this world. Why don't you just run along and play 'pirate' elsewhere? I have work to do."

"Hold on, captain," another man said, leaning on the rail. His hair was blond and a long scar carved its way down the left side of his face. Wrapped around his body was a thick blue coat with ragged holes all throughout the fabric. "I recognize that one." He pointed to Dresden. "There's a magazine that keeps track of all the good-looking bounty heads. She was in it about six months back with an 18 million reward."

The captain sighed. "Dower, you really remember ridiculous things..."

Dower laughed. "I never forget pretty faces," he said. "I thought she was in North Blue, though. This is lucky for us. We should take her. I haven't had a woman in ages."

"That's because you're too much of a creep..."

They continued bickering amongst each other as we drifted past, arguing over whether or not to steal Dresden. Even though I was in no position to do anything, I found myself boiling with anger. I had felt the blunt end of her personality since joining the crew, but a part of me still wanted nothing more than to teach them a lesson for the way they spoke about her. "Oo, I want to touch her skin," they said. "Look at her clothes," they said. "She's wearing barely anything even though its so cold! She's practically begging for it!!"

Dresden, however, was indifferent. Her expression was stolid all along. She looked straight ahead, seeing nothing but insignificance. Her composure was reminiscent of a mountain. Howl as the wind did to bring that mountain down, it didn't stand a chance.

It was then that Lowwe said something barely audible. I could tell that those words were for no one other than Dresden, but chance had landed me within earshot. "Amiori," he asked, "do you want me to send them all to the bottom of the sea?"

Dresden turned on her heal and jumped down from the rail. At her sudden action, the men across the water stopped their blathering. It seemed that Dresden had a captivated audience.

"You're absolutely despicable. Nothing will give me more pleasure than to feel your bones shatter under my fist." Her barefooted steps quietly grazed the wood as she walked to the door below deck. The men on the on the other ship laughed, but I knew better. They thought she was talking to them. In truth, she as berating Lowwe. "I'm going to sleep. This is a waste of my time."

"What about when we land?" Lowwe asked as she stepped below.

"Leave me. I'll watch the ship." With that, the door slammed, adding a brief note to the chorus of laughing men.

By then, our ship had nearly cleared theirs.

"If you come back here, rookie," their captain said, "we will kill you. We'd do so now if we didn't have more important things to manage."

Lowwe hopped from the rail. "Is that so...?" he said, meeting the eyes of that man precisely.

There was a pause. Long enough to be noticed, but short enough float under the radar of conversation. The other man looked like he was considering something. In the moment that Lowwe locked to his eyes, he seemed to have changed his opinion. Instead of a being a rookie, Lowwe had become a threat. Still, he held his ground.

"We will kill you," he repeated.

Lowwe smiled and turned his back. The next few steps he took toward the bow of the 'Dos Os' seemed to propel us further along the coast until the 'blank-flag' ship vanished behind a covering of white trees.

"Lets make our way to that cove now," Lowwe yawned.

Sender approached Lowwe. "What do you think?" he asked.

Lowwe took a deep breath. "I'm a little disconcerted. That guy was able to see Gregsbi at full speed. That means he isn't a slouch. Do you recognize him?"

Sender shook his head. "Even if he's a troublemaker, he probably doesn't have a bounty. 'Blank flag' mercenaries can sometimes get jobs from the World Government just to clean their bounty slates. Odds are that he may have done something like that a few times."

Lowwe sighed. "Either way, this probably isn't the last we'll see of them."

"I agree," Sender said, "There is definitely something larger at work here."


	17. Arc 3:Part 5: Pathway

Gregsbi was absolutely right. From the distance, it appeared as if there was a solid wall of stone and ice sitting at the base of the island mountain. As we approached, I even became a little weary of us running into it. Just before I was about to suggest turning back, the opening of a pass revealed itself. I studied the formation of the ice to see that the striking similarity between the patterns all around the circular area created a kind of optical illusion that made it appear from the distance as if nothing was there but the mountain's foot. I looked up and beheld the great mound of ice. It wasn't as tall as I thought it might be when I beheld it in the distance, but it was impressive nonetheless.

We pulled into the area slowly and a delicate structure embrace us from all sides. I guided my eyes all around the space when I saw narrow gap breathing open air through the tight enclosure. From one glance, I could tell that we were not the first to use this pass.

"Lowwe, do you see that opening?" I asked.

"Yeah," Lowwe nodded. "This is a pretty sturdy island, isn't it? There's literally no way to get in except here, and this location is pretty well concealed too. I think the probability that we're gonna run into a town here is pretty high."

Sender sighed. "The question that we'll need to consider is that if there is a town, will those townspeople actually want us there? Needless to say, everything we've seen about this island creates a pretty rigid sense of security. People don't like it when you barge into their house without knocking."

Our landing went pretty smoothly, but Sender's words lingered in my mind. Lowwe wanted the four of us, including Gregsbi, to be the exploration crew. I had to be prepared for the absolute worst, so I packed my rucksack with a few extra rounds of ammunition. The others went about similar preparations. Gregsbi filled a small pack that clipped around his waist, and Sender shouldered a bag of his own. Lowwe was the only one not to bring a pack of some kind. He simply walked about for a while, obviously looking for something, until he lifted a small tiny container of cinnamon from the kitchen stores. I didn't think much of it at the time. There are few who could comprehend such a man and his machination, so I left it at that.

As we disembarked, I thought of Dresden, and I couldn't help asking Sender, "Are we really going to leave her behind?"

"We're doing exactly what she told us to do. When she says she's going to sleep, I wouldn't want to be the one to wake her up."

I completely agreed with that statement. Whomsoever was responsible for waking Dresden from her sleep would probably only be living for a few brief moments afterward.

I climbed down from the 'Dos Os' and hopped to the ground. I felt snow crunched beneath my shoes, and Sender continued accordingly, "More importantly, shouldn't you be thinking about your own personal milestones? Isn't this the first time you've traveled to another island? Aren't these your first few steps as a pirate?"

Lowwe had already moved out to a decent distance ahead of us. Just a bit closer, Gregsbi was making his way. He would have been just as far ahead as Lowwe if he didn't stop every now and then to roll around in the snow.

I looked to Sender walking next to me and then to my feet. I hadn't been thinking about it. This was a new land. I had left home. If there was any mistake before, then it should have vanished into nothing. I was on an adventure. But then I realize that I had always been on an adventure from the very moment I set foot on Lowwe's ship. I had been walking on new lands ever since I met the man.

I smiled at Sender. "I've been walking my first steps in so many things now that I can't really tell the difference anymore."

Sender laughed. "That's a good way to put it. Everything's been new, hasn't it?"

I suddenly recalled something from our intersection with the 'blank flags.'

"Speaking of new things..." I said, "that one crewman from the ship we passed earlier said that he had seen Dresden in a bounty magazine. He said she was worth 18 million beri. Isn't that too small? Doesn't anyone else have a bounty?"

Sender raised his arm and touched his single bandaged fist. "I was wondering if you would catch that," he said. "You already know that we've been a crew for only a few months now. Honestly, we haven't had many run-ins with the World Government, and the times that we happen across them are met with care and deliberation. You see, some of the best pirates on this sea don't have bounties. It's not because they aren't strong, but because they're so cunning and cutthroat that no one ever sees them doing anything against the law. It's something like an underground type of piracy."

"I get it. That seems dangerous, but I get it. To think that there could be pirates out there worth millions but no one knows about them... But does that mean Dresden is the only one with a bounty? I thought you would have one because you're... well, you're actually really old. You've been through the Grand Line before."

Sender shook his head. "My bounty is actually 54 million beri."

"54 MILLION BERI!!!!" I yelled it so loud that I could have caused an avalanche in the snow.

"Yeah," Sender sighed in shame. "I had to work so hard to keep it low too. I wish it was smaller. The higher-ups in the World Government start memorizing pirate's faces when they get over 30 million. Those guys we passed in the ship probably didn't know my bounty because my poster is so old. Dresden has an 18 million bounty because she was a frequent disturber of the peace back in the North Blue. She would literally lay waist to anyone who ticked her off in the slightest. I guess her activity turned out to be a good thing in the end because that is what ultimately led Lowwe to finding her and fighting her. Gregsbi and Lowwe, however, don't have bounties at all..." Sender paused, thinking. "Actually, that's not completely true. Lowwe did get a bounty, but the picture on his poster is so unintelligible that it's completely impossible to figure out that it's him. It literally looks like the picture of someone's shadow."

"Is that Lowwe's Devil Fruit power? Some kind of shadow ability?"

I felt smart when I said that, but that feeling immediately disintegrated when Sender laughed out loud. "That's pretty funny," he said. "In fact, it would be pretty interesting if Lowwe was some 'shadow-man,' but no. That's not his power. Keep guessing, though... Really, the picture on Lowwe's bounty is unintelligible simply because Lowwe got away too quickly. I suppose it's possible that his Devil Fruit abilities might have had something to do with it, though. I think the nickname on the poster is 'the spook' or 'the sillouette' or something absurd like that. I have it if you ever want to take a look. It's pretty meaningless, though. If and when Lowwe does something in the future that offends the World Government, they'll never be able to connect him to that poster unless he wants them to do so."

"What's the bounty on it?"

"Oh," Sender thought for a moment, "it is, if I'm not mistaken, 60 million beri."

It was time again for another avalanche summoning yell. "60 MILLION BERI!!!!!! That's even higher than yours! I didn't think something like that was possible outside of the Grand Line! What the hell did he do to get that?!!"

"To put it simply, he stole something very valuable to the World Government," Sender said. "I don't know if you've ever heard of Dr. Vegapunk, but there is a whole branch of the government dedicated to harnassing Devil Fruits by passing their powers onto objects and weaponry. Lowwe took one such object for himself. I don't know all the details, but apparently he happened upon it fairly coincidentally."

"And what did he steal?" I prodded Sender onward.

"I told you about it before... Don't you remember? It was one of the three things that Lowwe's caretaker--my friend Emmanuel Drebough--enchanted with life. Lowwe never goes anywhere without it, and he talks to it all the time. It's the foil... That foil named, Couldrazor."

I couldn't believe my ears. That's where the foil came from. Couldrazor. Lowwe carried it so nonchalantly in that loose belt of rope. I remembered holding it in my hands, feeling its weight fluctuate within my very grasp. Who knew it was worth so much?

"That foil is something curious to say the least. Not only does it have some kind of Devil Fruit power, but thanks to Drebough, it's also a living, thinking entity. Like I told you before, I've never seen Lowwe use it, but for the size of the bounty that they put out, who knows what it can do."

As I let my thoughts linger on the new layer of mysticism that shrouded the crew, I noticed up ahead that Lowwe and Gregsbi were now standing together waiting for us to catch up. Just in front of them was a knife of ice that rose into the air and split the way into two. When we made it to their location, Lowwe let out a huge yawn.

"From what I can see, this path to the right goes into the island center, and this one to the left goes up the mountain."

Sender and Gregsbi were nodding their heads.

"So that means we'll be parting ways for the time being, doesn't it?"

Lowwe grinned back in response. "I'm glad you picked up on that so quickly, Sender. I would like you three to explore the center. Be careful. Something is certainly strange about this island. It doesn't help that the presence of the 'blank-flags' adds more mystery to this place. You'll probably reach the center at around nightfall. When you do, be as covert as possible until day. After all, strangers seems less dangerous during the day. We don't want to start a fight."

The other two seemed to have picked up on something that I had missed, so I had to ask. "Wait... you're going up the mountain?"

"Don't you remember...?" Lowwe said patting me on the shoulder. He wrapped his coat around him a bit tighter and sent his moccasins into fresh snow. With his back to me and his destination high, he breathed white clouds. "The first thing I said when you showed me this island in the distance was that I wanted to climb this mountain."

With that, even though he was only a few steps away, Lowwe was gone.

Sender shook his head. "That man never ceases to be unpredictable. It's annoying and fascinating at the same time."

Gregsbi was smiling widely. "Captain has a lot of trust in us. I'm really looking forward to seeing what's in this island. Even though Weathermy isn't in the Grand Line, it stays warm pretty consistently. I've only seen snow once or twice in my whole life."

Slowly, wall of ice crept up and Lowwe left our sight. "So that's why you were rolling in the snow earlier?" Sender asked, watching.

Gregsbi shook his head. "No, I was doing that because I had an itch that I couldn't reach."

Sender sighed. "And here I thought Lowwe was unpredictable... Gregsbi, you're even more of an anomaly."

Sender started to walk down the opposite path. I turned around and saw that the fork we had just come upon was something like a nexus of many paths through the ice. This fact was concealed to me on the approach through our particular pathway but became frighteningly apparent as I stared back. Quickly, I unscrewed a few bullets and dumped their gunpowder by some blocks of ice that I thought I could recognize. One pile for the path we had taken from the ship, one pile for the path Lowwe had taken up the mountain and one pile for the path we took inland. By the time I had finished, Sender and Gregsbi were far ahead. I hopped through the deep snow to catch up, unaware of the future importance of what I'd just done.


	18. Arc 3:Part 6: Rooftop

We carried forward into the island, wondering what we might see. As time went by, the sun sank lower and temperature dove with it. The snow seemed to harden beneath our feet and I began to wonder what would happen if we got into the island center and found nothing. Chances were that there would be no shelter to hold us over until the morning came.

Just as my worries about the cold began to escalate, I felt a wave of warmth pass through the air. It was Sender.

"Stay close," he said. "The Chikara fruit is a pretty useful thing when it comes down to it. If you keep near enough, I can energize the air around us into warmth. I also have a feeling that we're getting close."

The three of us crept a bit closer and moved as one through the pass. Gregsbi was grinning, holding his hands up to Sender as if he were a fire. I wondered about Lowwe and what he was doing to handle the chill as he made his way up the mountain. Before I could consider it further, however, Sender held his hand up and pointed ahead.

"Look."

We had arrived at the end of the pass, the ice extended out and gave way to a dense forest of white leafed trees. Above the thickness of the winter wood, a soft silhouette broke through to our adjusting eyes.

It was the outline of a rather large village, bordering on being the size of a small town. We crept through the trees and leaned together so we could get a better look.

"Now that's odd," Sender breathed. "The entire place is completely dark."

"Maybe no one is here," I suggested. "Maybe the 'Blank Flags' got them first."

"That's possible," Sender meditated, "but I don't think so. Those 'Blank Flags' we passed earlier didn't seem interested in anything aside from the 'Gale.' Also, they didn't let on the impression that they knew anything else about this island. Not only that, I don't see any damage or anything. Usually after a conflict there would be some evidence of fighting."

"Maybe they're all asleep," Gregsbi chirped.

Sender chuckled. "That's definitely a possibility. They may operate on a curfew. But this is all still too eerily quiet for my taste. Lowwe said to be as covert as possible, so we should do a recon sweep. Gregsbi, you check out the perimeter and the woods surrounding. Listen for any activity. Use your speed, but stay quiet. I'll check the ground level of the town--the walkways and the buildings. Turning, you see that house over there?" He pointed to a building close by. It was slightly larger than the others and a large pipeline ran up its side. I want you to climb that pipeline to the roof and gather any information you can from an aerial view. If anything happens, be ready to snipe without hesitation. Understand?"

I shouldered my rifle closer to my body. "Got it."

"Okay," Sender said. "Meet back here in an hour. Don't let your guard down."

Gregsbi vanished through the snow in the blink of an eye as Sender and I neared the house. He helped me up onto the pipeline and then carried away stealthily in another direction.

I slid my way up the frosty metal, confidant that it could hold my weight. I felt surprisingly nimble given the depth of the cold, but, given the adrenaline pumping through my body I suppose it was reasonable. This was my first mission as a pirate, and I was determined to do my best. The circumstances we had come upon were undoubtedly peculiar--the 'Blank Flags' and now this silent villaige--and I was determined to do my best to help. When I reached the lip of the roof, I placed my rifle high onto the shingles and swung my body up to meet it. Silently, I crept up to the peak of the roof to scan the area.

Darkness was everywhere. No window was alight. The quiet was so deep and preserved that I could have swore I heard Sender or Gregsbi, sweeping somewhere upon the snow.

I place the rifle in my lap and removed my scope from the rucksack on my back. Something in the distance on the edge of the white wood had caught my eye. It might have just been the icy breeze jostling the branches of a tree, but I had to be cautious.

I glassed the area and saw nothing but that same monotonous darkness. I decided that I had to slide further down the roof in order to get a better glance.

Now, I've done many things in my life that I would consider stupid. I think no one gets away with being intelligent one-hundred percent of the time. The only one whom I could vouch for would probably be Sender. Even now, I can't recall an instant when he said something out of place or did something that wound up being foolish. I don't know why I didn't consider the possibility that the roof was congealed with ice. Maybe my climb onto the building was far too easy. Maybe the excitement of exploration had cast the danger from my mind. Either way, as I moved along the ridge of the house to inspect the distance, I my foot got caught without friction and my entire body was thrown downward.

The entire collapse seemed to cry out with noise. My rifle rattled down the slope, my jacket screamed, and even the shingles seemed to clap as I slid closer and closer toward the edge. Somehow, I still possessed the wherewithal to grip the scope close to my body, lacing it between both of my hands. It was as if that single item meant more to me than my personal well-being. Even my thoughts were hopeful wishes that this home-made treasure would come out unscathed.

Then, in a final mockery of my idiocy, everything went silent again for the rolling and sliding had stopped and the falling began. I was thrown from the roof, feeling nothing but air beneath. Gravity was my master. The cold black world spun overhead and I could only wonder what would happen next. Would the snow break my fall, or would my neck snap upon the ground? Would Gregsbi and Sender look at my corpse and think I was murdered, or would they see through the farce and laugh over my dead body and its clumsiness? What would Lowwe say?

But none of that happened. My body struck a hard surface, and I felt some small round objects jutting into my back. My gun rattled down beside me into silence. The ground had come far too soon.

I raised my head and peered around and found that I had landed on some kind of deck. Just as I was thanking my good fortune, I froze. In the darkness, I made out a face and a pair of eyes staring at me in surprise. Both of us looked at one another, wide-eyed.

"What the hell are you doing!?" came a girl's voice, whispering and shouting at the same time. "Do you realize what's happening right now?!"

Suddenly, she turned her head toward the railing of the deck. "Oh shit..." she breathed. "You've made too much noise! They'll come straight here! We have to get inside...! Hurry!"

I reached out to grasp my rifle and noticed that beneath me there sat a chess board with the pieces scattered in every direction. I must have landed directly on top of it and the round things I felt jabbing into my back were the wooden pieces. Before I could take hold of my weapon, the girl grabbed onto my coat sleeve and pulled me toward the deck doors.

"Come on!" she whisper-screamed again. "We have to get inside!!"

But it was already too late.

Descending from the edge of the roof and rising over the railing of the deck, two large dark forms slowly grew into my vision. By reflex, I spun my limbs to take aim, but my rifle still lay lifelessly on the deck, useless. From the blackness, two pairs of white teeth glowed with anger, and a salivating noise rung in my ear.

Then the girl said something absolutely absurd. It was the most bizarre statement I have ever heard given the situation.

"Man," she said, trembling next to me in fear, "I wish I had my glasses."

But I didn't have time to ponder her words. The beasts were before us, mouths widening and ready to kill in an instant.


End file.
